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freckledmountain · 3 years

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Lulling comfort

By @freckledmountain for @romeoandjulietyouwish

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark

Summary:

"Music had gotten an entirely new meaning after that, from Disney songs to musicals to classic rock, and everything else in between. … He´d do anything to listen to Peter sing to them again."

Or, an AU where you hear whatever your platonic soulmate sings or hums! :D

For the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1: Change

Some-

BODY ONCE TOLD ME

the WORLD IS GONNA ROLL ME

I AIN´T THE SHARPEST TOOL IN THE sHE-ED

Peter´s endearing screech and dramatics at the starting notes startles a fond laugh out of Tony, making DUM-E beep in curious surprise.

The bot has a screwdriver in his grasp and usually Tony´d chastise him for grabbing tools without permission (he has not forgotten the last lab incident, thank you) but right now he´s much too preoccupied resisting the urge to join in the kid´s slumber party via his own singing.

God bless karaoke.

Peter had looked sheepish when he´d mentioned it to him, the little get-together his scary girlfriend and Ned had planned this weekend at the latter´s place after a ridiculously long week of exams. Tony had absolutely no problem listening to his kid´s voice in his head, but it was still sweet of Peter to ask beforehand.

“You know I work best with music anyway.” He´d said, remembering all the times he´d listened to Peter perform dramatically to songs on the radio.

Peter´d hunched his shoulders a bit, smiling. “Yeah, okay, okay, I just wanted to make sure because Ned might ask me to duet to Take on me again, and last time I sang it you were on a meeting and FRIDAY sent me that video of you mouthing the words and Ms. Potts looked like the disappointed dad from that Shawn Mendes vine- “

…even if he had no idea what the kid was talking about sometimes.

He´d gasped and placed a hand to his chest, feigning offence. “Have you forgotten the time you had Call me maybe on loopin my head for an entire day?”

“…It was a dare?”

“Hmm” he´d said, raising an eyebrow playfully as Peter dissolved into laughter. “whatever you say, bud.”

His smile softens unconsciously at the memory as he methodically tweaks a few things in his nanotech suit, still listening to Peter belt out lyrics in his head. Truth be told, he misses the kid working alongside him like usual, but he knows how important spending time with his friends is to Peter.

(The parenting books say it´s imperative too, although of course he hasn´t ever read, purchased five on a whim or fret over anything of the sort. Obviously.)

He hopes Ned and Michelle´s respective other halves don´t mind the kids crooning 80´s rock on a Friday evening, but he guesses if they´re anything like them, they probably won´t complain. Soulmates are cool like that.

He remembers all the times Rhodey had told him about his soulmate´s voice inside his own head, how he´d suddenly perk up and grin at whatever melody he could hear, how he´d start humming randomly to join in.

Tony had grown up hearing nothing but his own treacherous thoughts for the longest time, almost losing hope completely at the possibility of having a soulmate right up until adulthood. Heavy metal music blasted over his speakers constantly whenever he was busy in his workshop, but he never joined in. There were moments when he´d thought his love for singing would be soured forever, since apparently the universe or whoever was in charge didn´t have a problem leaving him without someone out there to share it with him in his head.

Thankfully, he always did have Rhodey, and boycould he kick-start the fun in singing again with his flawless Mariah Carey impressions. He´d loved the few times he´d heard Pepper sing too, and there´d even been one memorable instance where he´d surprised Happy vocalizing in an unexpectedly pleasant lilt.

Hearing Peter sing though...simply put, there was nothing else like it.

-and we could aLL use a little changeeeeeeeEEE

…Yes, nothing was quite like it.

Tony shakes his head, smiling, and grabs his phone to text May about the kid´s shenanigans. She´d been more than a little concerned when Peter and him had figured out who the other was, (that was one heck of a superhero fundraiser) but now they´ve become much closer, and Tony can genuinely say they´re friends. He´s glad to have her on his side, because May Parker is, in Peter terms, a very kind powerhouse, and not someone he´d like to mess with.

He´s about to press send when the lights in the room flash red.

Tony´s up and summoning his gauntlet attentively in a second, right as FRIDAY pulls up screens around him, showing footage of the emergency.

“What am I looking at, FRI?”

“Around 30 heavily armed machines have emerged in Midtown Manhattan, boss.” She responds, as the room fills with projections. The robots on screen are huge and ugly as heck, about the width and height of three school buses together. They´re making their way through the streets surprisingly quickly for how heavy they look. People run away, steering clear of their illuminated blasts. “They appear to be releasing high frequency blasts approximately every ten seconds. Local police have just arrived at the scene and are requesting backup, since the blasts are causing structural damage to the surrounding buildings. The source of these machines is unknown.”

“Tell the team to suit up and meet me there.”

“They have already been alerted, boss, but I´ll relay your message as well.”

The rest of his suit materializes around him, and he makes haste to get to the nearest window, half worried and half downright annoyed at whoever was behind this.

“Another one for the robot bingo card on means of world domination.” He says to himself, unimpressed. Just one week without this crap…

He soars above the sky nonetheless, blasting his way towards the fight.

Please stay put kid, he wishes, even as the singing stops.

---

Three blocks.

He´s three blocks away from where Peter is making his way back when it happens.

As big and fast as the robots are, Tony can tell they weren´t exactly made by the finest of the loons who regularly try to take over New York. Not to mention they´re absolutely appalling to look at, whoever designed these things had absolutely no taste, Tony thinks, crushing his twenty-second bot with the suit´s repulsors. It hasn´t exactly been easy, since the wretched machines have no real apparent motive but to blow up everything in their path, but within an hour it seems they´re done with the worst of it.

He can see Nat and Wanda dealing with the remains of one of the last ones below, while a little way away Cap´s talking with a few cops, scoping out the damage. Even though the air is permeated with smoke and there´s rubble in some places, there are no casualties, and they´ve thankfully emptied out the buildings that got wrecked. SHIELD will take care of the rest.

He flies over the skyscrapers, keeping an eye out for any other bots, but it seems like FRIDAY´s finished identifying all of them. He activates a private line on the comms to talk to Peter.

“Done securing the area from whatever that disastrous colour scheme was?”

He can hear Peter´s good-natured groan as his location pops up on Tony´s screen, six blocks away.

“I know, right? I can wear mismatched socks for a week and rock them no problem, but blue with like, eye-melting neon? Yikes.”

“Exactamundo. Couldn´t agree with you more, kid. But hey, it looks like you might actually be able to get back to your sleepover after all. Can´t wait to hear what alarming chorus is going to keep me up until midnight.”

“Oh you just wait, we´re doing ABBA next and it´s gonna be so-“

FRIDAY tears through the conversation with an alarm, but it´s precious seconds too late.

A gasp. An abrupt thud resounding through the comms. A scream. Peter´s.

Tony´s blood freezes in his veins.

“Peter? Peter!?”

He gets there in less than a minute and sees one of the bots with its blaster pointed at Peter, still smoking from the shot.

He obliterates it without a second thought, his mind swirling with fear and rejection at FRIDAY´s next words as he runs towards Spiderman´s crumbled figure.

“No heartbeat detected, boss”.

Chapter 2

The first time he´d ever heard Peter´s voice, he´d been running on three hours of sleep, a frankly heart-attack inducing dose of caffeine, and no motivation whatsoever to sit down with stuffy board members for five hours.

It didn´t exactly come as a surprise that for the first few milliseconds of the “Itsy bitsy spider” chant in his head he´d thought, confusingly, that it might just have been his mind finally resorting to the resurface of old nursery rhymes as a way to tell him to go the frick to sleep.

His heart however, was another matter.

As ridiculous and improbable as it sounded, a new something in his chest rose even before he knew what was happening. He might not have been a machine, but something slowly and irrevocably clicked into place the more he heard that gentle voice go on about water spouts and suns.

He´d stopped short in realization. Blinked.

And then smiled wide enough to lose himself in the mirth of it.

He´d run back to his workshop right after that, laughing like mad with the absolute mayhem of emotions coursing through his whole being, almost crashing into Pepper in the process. She´d looked back at him in concern, questions already forming in her lips, before Tony had frantically mimed at her to keep quiet, wanting to listen to the soft voice´s final notes.

Once the song finished, Tony may or may not have let out a loud shriek of sheer joy and told an increasingly delighted Pepper all about it, practically bursting with excitement.

“Pep! Wait, what do I do now!? Do I- Do I sing it back to him? Do I sing another- crap I don´t even know any children´s songs, JARVIS, JARVIS!”

In the end he´d had to phone Rhodey to yell the news ecstatically to him, because he´d just found maybe the universe hadn´t wanted to screw him over after all, and he felt like screaming it from the rooftops. The little voice was sweet and shy and boyish and happy, and about the best thing Tony had heard in his damn life. He couldn´t have contained himself if he´d tried, and heck if he was going to any time soon.

(“Tones, what- “

“Rhodey!”

“…was that you or a screech owl.”

“It happened! There´s- a little kid! Somewhere! Spiders! My soulmate!”

“The- wait what-? “)

Music had gotten an entirely new meaning after that, from Disney songs to musicals to classic rock, and everything else in between.

…

He´d do anything to listen to Peter sing to them again.

Burning.

He´s burning all over.

Screaming in pain, he tries to escape from the scorching heat, but it´s everywhere, it´s everything, he´s the pain, he´s the fire, everything hurts-

And then as soon as it appears, the pain is gone.

He opens his eyes, blinking woozily.

“Oh, thank God.”

His vision blurs all over for a minute. There´s dampness in the corners, left over from tears.

Tears?

He makes an attempt to sit up, but there´s a hand holding his shoulder gently. He blinks again.

Tries to decipher his surroundings.

He´s laying down in a mostly deserted, grubby looking street. A figure kneels close to him, some sort of red and gold robot type thing. He narrows his eyes at it, trying to figure out why it feels so familiar…but finds, to a detached kind of surprise, that he can´t.

He has no idea what happened.

The robot seems to be very relieved for some reason, just staring up at the sky for a couple of seconds, taking a deep, wheezy breath.

Even with his head feeling like wet cotton, he looks at him with concern. The robot sounds seconds away from fainting. Is he…alright?

When the robot´s face opens and a man´s head peeps out (cool!), he almost jumps back in surprise.

And then…

Well. He still doesn´t have a clue who this person is, but as soon as he sees the man´s expression of utter joy and relief, something inside him settles. Safe.

He blinks in confusion at the feeling. He knows this person. He does.

But who is he?

“Pete? You´re back bud. Do you feel okay?” The man´s (man? robot? man-robot? cyborg? figment of his imagination?) smile fades slightly, looking at him in worry. “FRIDAY” Friday? Who on earth is he talking to? “didn´t you say the CPR made his vitals-“

“I´m- I´m fine” he says, because enormous confusion aside, he is. Maybe his head is scrambled, and he feels exhausted, but he has a feeling he´s been in worse shape before.

A feeling.

The man (he´s decided on man) starts going on about robots, and getting him to a tower with someone called Dr. Cho, but all he can do is blink back, his confusion increasing.

“I´m really sorry” he interrupts, knowing he´s probably going to disappoint the man, but needing to push forward even so, “who- who are you? Are you-? “

He tries to put a word on the feeling seeing the man´s face had evoked in him before, tries to remember who he is or what he has to do with the man or why he feels so…safe. So safe. With him there, even with all the questions going round and round inside his head.

“Are you my dad?”

The man´s face stills. For a second, it looks like his brain short-circuits.

Mood, a thought rings out in his head, unbidden.

That´s when he hears it.

A huge metallic…thing coming through the street towards them, and he doesn´t know why but it makes his heart thump like a rabbit´s in a cage, and suddenly he gets a flash of remembering pain, and he knows these machines, these machines are dangerous, and what if the man gets hurt too-

He pushes the man behind him as he desperately tries to look for somewhere they can hide-

-but the man grabs his hand first and hurries them both towards the sturdiest-looking car on the street, crouching so they´re out of sight.

“Uh, alright. I- this must be really weird for you, but it´ll be okay. Just stay here for now, ´kay? I´ll- We´ll figure this out. You with me?” The man holds his gaze for a second, and it´s so sincere, he finds himself nodding.

The man smiles. “Okay. Give me a sec.” And then he gets up and turns towards the robot.

What the-what´s he doing!?

He reaches out clumsily to drag him back, but the man´s face gets obscured by his robot mask once more and he…

Flies?

The frick? He thinks in bewilderment, as he sees the man lift off and attack the robot with blasts coming from his hands. My maybe-dad can fly!?

Either he lives in a sci-fi novel, or he´s going absolutely nuts.

Could be both at this point, frankly.

The whiz of gold and red fighting the robot is almost quicker than his sight can keep up with, but he persists, looking out anxiously for any opening the robot might have to take the man down so he can try to warn him about it. There is none though, the robot might be exceedingly fast, but the man remains unyielding. He takes another look at the giant machine and sees it´s blaster-

And then it´s like someone takes his brain and shakes it around everywhere, and the throbbing is so sudden he kneels and clutches his head tightly to keep it from falling apart. His thoughts feel shattered and tampered with, and the pain-

He cries out in agony, and tears fill his eyes again.

The man! I have to look out for him!

He tries to listen to the fight again, but just as he tries to focus in on it it´s like a tsunami of yells and police sirens and voices washes over him, and noise, why is there so much noise-

Overwhelmed, he kneels until his forehead touches the grainy concrete, and wishes he would just pass out.

He doesn´t, though.

Among the oversaturated ocean of noise, one adds to the mix.

Except this one isn´t grating. This one doesn´t make everything seem like too much.

Because it feels like it´s coming from within himself.

He´s at a loss for what´s happening, but the voice slowly and lightly blocks out all the other noise, grounding him in a gentle tune. In a flash, he recognizes the song. He knows where he heard it last.

Mr Stark.

And he remembers.

“Kid? What are you doing up?”

He shrugs, sinking deeper into the couch cushions. Baby Tarzan laughs onscreen.

He half expects Mr Stark to push him for more details, but he seems to understand Peter´s not in a talking mood and walks up to him solemnly.

“Scoot.”

He does, and Mr Stark plops down next to him, wordlessly extending his arms out in invitation. Peter falls into the hug gratefully and sighs. Exhaustion pulls down on his bones, but he´d rather not get back to the nightmare he woke up from. Mr Stark snorts softly at something in the movie, and then they both jump a bit at the sudden loud gorilla roar. They keep watching the movie, and Peter´s curls are brushed back gently in a soothing motion.

He wants to sleep. But he can´t.

But he´s safe here, isn´t he?

His chest grows heavier as he thinks of the dream, and when he blinks, his eyelids dampen. He hasn´t shed a tear yet, but Mr Stark must sense something again because his hand at Peter´s hair stills.

And then he starts singing.

It´s a lulling comfort, and Peter melts into the embrace, allowing his tired eyes some rest.

He´s safe.

Come stop your crying

It will be alright

Just take my hand

Hold it tight

I will protect you

From all around you

I will be here

Don't you cry

He´s safe.

With a final shot from Iron man´s repulsors, the robot powers down, and Peter runs out to meet Mr Stark, almost crushing his ribs in a hug.

“Woah, woah!” The helmet´s visor pulls up, revealing a grinning Tony. “Did that actually work? FRIDAY told me you were freaking out and I thought it might help calm you down.” He says, hugging him back. “But it did more than that, didn´t it?”

Peter´s too relieved to do anything but nod happily into his shoulder, but he gets the point across.

They stay there for a full minute, just holding on to each other. Until Tony grumbles out a “and I can´t believe you remembered Phil Collins before Iron man, seriously.” and Peter bursts out laughing, lightening the mood.

“The man didn´t sing that soundtrack in five languages for nothing, Mr Stark. It slaps.”

Tony hides his smile in Peter´s curls, and hugs him close.

#Writing #The friendly neighborhood exchange #WHOOO #irondad and spiderson #I love them #platonic soulmates

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swan--writes · 3 years

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Beetlejuice’s Big Halloween Party

I thought about writing a Dewey Halloween, but let’s be real, there ain’t room for the both of these boys in this here holiday.

And listen, it is 2:30 AM and I just finished writing this. I wrote it all in one go. I’m not editing it. Please reblog though! Happy Halloween and Blessed Samhain!

Warnings: elements of horror, blood mention, eyeball mention

Words: 3,070

You screamed.

“Beetlejuice!”

Your demon laughed at you from the rafters of your barn. Ever since you had moved out to your farmhouse, Beetlejuice had been hanging around. Sometimes literally. Normally you found you didn’t mind the demon’s antics – he kept things lively when there wasn’t much going on out where you lived. Sometimes he donned an old sheet and floated around the house. Sometimes he went out into your backyard and howled at the tree line. And sometimes he dropped live bats from the rafters of the barn, directly onto your unsuspecting head.

Frantically, you waved away the little menace. All you could see were glimpses of a wrinkled snout and long teeth. It seemed to be flapping its wings as fast as you were flapping your hands, and by the time it managed to fly off, Beetlejuice was hanging upside-down in midair and cackling.

“Wow, what a jumpy breather,” he said, wiping a thick black tear from his eye. You thought you heard it sizzle as it fell to the worn wooden floor.

“Knock it off, Beej.”

“Yeah, sure I will.”

“Seriously!” You shook your head, fighting off a shiver. “There’s gonna be screaming hordes of children here in, like, an hour. I cannot still be cleaning up your messes when they get here. So, lose the bats and the bugs and the…whatever else you’ve got.” You narrowed your eyes at his tattered suit jacket.

“Relax, babes, I got it all under control.”

Without thinking, you took a step back as he righted himself in the air. “I don’t like the way you said that.”

“Hey, take the help or don’t. I’ll be here all night.” With that, he zoomed up to the rafters, dropping beetle carcasses in his wake. You shrieked and leaped back. “Beetlejuice!” you complained, only to hear his laughter.

It had been less than a year since you moved into your creepy old farmhouse. You still weren’t entirely sure if the creepy old dead guy had come with the property, or if he had followed you there. But when you found his name traced over and over again in the dust of every reflective surface in the house on the first night, you had almost left.

In the end, it was one of the movers who had summoned him. You had had two burly men helping you move your things inside. One of them had remarked on the odd name, Betelgeuse. The other had just happened to be an amateur astronomer. Before any of you knew what was happening, lightening was striking, thunder was rolling, wind was blowing, and the two big, strong movers were scrambling back to their truck. Thoughtfully, they did hurl the last of your furniture from the vehicle as they peeled out of your shaded, and winding driveway. Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse…

“Okay, Beetlejuice, fine! Yes! I do need help.” You grumbled the last to yourself, trying and failing once more to move a heavy wooden table. It had been half an hour since the bat incident, and almost all of it had been spent on this table.

“Well, I don’t know…”

“Beetlejuice.”

“I’m getting kinda tired, y’know…”

“Beetlejuice!”

“A’right, a’right, fine! Taskmaster, jeez.” The demon floated down from the rafters, snapped his fingers, and the table you had been struggling with walked itself over to where you had been trying to move it – against the wall, centered under a window.

The barn was a decent size. Average by northeastern standards, but tall as hell. Or, the Netherworld, you supposed. The structure of the thing was entirely wood, worn down and lightened with time. The posts were a richer color than the floor, which was covered in scratches and the occasional hay straw. There were windows all around, installed sometime within the last half-century, and the sun shone in brilliantly when it was up.

Now it was dark, even at 5:00 PM. As you watched, the decorations you had strewn haphazardly across the space leapt to attention. Miniature pumpkin lights snaked their way around the rafters and posts, along with actual snakes. A layer of fog coated the floor so thickly you could no longer see your own feet. What looked to be a hundred flaming tealights sprung up from every table – some with black flames, others green. The overhead iron-wrapped pendant lights dimmed and aged noticeably, some flakes of rust falling to the floor and becoming lost in the low gloom.

The jack-o’-lanterns you and Beetlejuice had carved the day before lit up abruptly. Paper bats and bloody eyeballs on strings dropped down to hang from the rafters. A soft, eerie music began floating through the room, and when you looked up you saw a greenish gray skeleton manning the DJ setup on a slightly raised section of the floor. It gave you and Beetlejuice a thumbs-up, its other decayed hand on a headphone positioned just a few degrees south of where its ear might have been.

“Thank you, I think--whoa!” Before you could finish thanking your demon, you heard a loud BANG. All the window shutters slammed shut.

“No problem, babes, but what are you gonna do for me?” Beetlejuice waggled his eyebrows at you.

You rolled your eyes. “Politely ask you to open the shutters back up, please? It’s a full moon, we should be able to see it.”

Beetlejuice bent backwards unnaturally far and groaned. “Fine.” A flick of his wrist and the shutters swung open meekly. A few thick, black tentacles with a faint green sheen slithered in at the corners of each window, not breaking the glass but rather bending it open around themselves. The demon dusted off his hands and fixed his tie. “Happy?”

“Very.”

“How’d you get roped into doing this, anyway? I thought you hated kids.”

“I don’t hate them, I just don’t like them. One of the community theater guys asked me to.” You started for the barn door. Beetlejuice followed you, the tips of his shoes dragging the fog.

“Why?” He wrinkled his nose.

“Because the new, mysterious stage manager has a big, scary house in the middle of nowhere that no-one’s ever seen, that’s why.”

“Huh. Is he gonna be here too?” You didn’t have to look at Beetlejuice to know he was grinning.

Before you could warn him not to do anything dangerous, you opened the barn door to find your first chaperone. You weren’t sure if it was a state rule that a gathering of kids under a certain age needed adult chaperones, but knowing Beetlejuice, you were happy to have the help. This one was a theater mom. You barely knew her, but she said she would bring cupcakes, so you had shrugged and given her your address.

“Stephanie, hi,” you said, only mildly startled to see her so early.

“H--oh. Uh, hi,” she replied, now openly staring at Beetlejuice.

“Hi.” Still grinning.

“Um, who is this?” she asked, barely containing her horror.

“I’m–”

“Oh, this is, uh–”

“I’m her, uh–”

“Lawrence!” you said rigidly. “Lawrence…Beetleman.” You pulled at the demon’s arm and he dropped to his feet, stumbling to your side. You knew you should have rehearsed this.

Beetlejuice held out his left hand stiffly. “Nice to meet ya.” You elbowed him as surreptitiously as you could, and he dropped the hand, holding out his right instead.

Stephanie cautiously met his hand, then dropped it immediately. “Oh, I uh…you too, Mr. Beetleman?” Beetlejuice flinched and gagged noticeably.

There was a long silence.

“So…” you tried.

“Right! Yes, I, um…well, I came to help you decorate, but it seems like you have it all taken care of?” Stephanie glanced around you, coming away looking somehow even more horrified.

“Oh yeah, we got it covered, Stevie.” You tried to elbow Beetlejuice again, but he dodged. Moving forward, he took Stephanie’s arm at the elbow and led her into the barn. “Here, lemme show you where to put those cupcakes.” He nodded to the box she was carrying.

“Oh, okay. It’s Stephanie, by the way,” she said nervously.

“Sure.”

“Beetleman,” you cautioned haltingly, frowning at him.

“Don’t worry about it, babes. Don’t you gotta go put on your costume?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Stephanie spoke first. “It’s fine, I’ll just, um…”

“Yeah, she’ll just um. Go on,” Beetlejuice cajoled. Tightlipped and wide-eyed, you turned and stalked out of the barn, leaving the door open behind you just in case.

Surprising yourself, you managed to get into your costume in under thirty seconds. The makeup, on the other hand, was more of a challenge. There was something about the creaky sounds of wood settling and the draft through the second floor of your house that was making it more difficult than usual to keep your hands steady. But then, you had never been much of an artist.

So, you headed back to the barn in your broken shoes and your torn clothes, perfecting your shamble as you went. The door was still open. Stephanie had her back to you and seemed to be sizing up the tentacles on the far window, but Beetlejuice caught your movement as you tentatively stuck your head into the barn. You motioned for him to come towards you. He followed your lead.

Once you were both just outside the barn door, you turned fully to face him. “Hey,” you whispered.

“What’s up, babes?”

“I’m having a little trouble with my prosthetics. Could you do anything to make me look a little more…” You searched for the right word. “…horrifying?” Seeing Beetlejuice’s eyes light up, you held out a hand. “Without killing and/or maiming me.” You paused. “Or making the children cry.”

The demon gave you a look. “What, on Halloween? Huge cliché, what do you take me for?” You raised your eyebrows, but said nothing. He snapped his fingers and within an instant, you could feel your face and sections of your clothing stiffen with what you hoped was fake blood. “There: instant zombification.”

“Great, lemme just go check–”

“Sweetheart, trust me, you could strike terror into the hearts of any ghoul.”

“Do ghouls have hearts?”

“Whatever you do, never ask a ghoul that.”

You gave him a small smile. “Thanks, Mr. Beetleman.” Almost compulsively, Beetlejuice gagged again. You laughed and led him back into the barn. Stephanie turned to greet you, then turned away again. Your demon gave you a sidelong, self-satisfied look. You shook your head at him, but couldn’t force the smile off of your face.

The kids started showing up minutes later. Stephanie’s wife brought their two sons, then the community theater director came with his daughter, and on and on. Before 6:00, the barn was full. Nearly half of the children had entered the costume contest, which you had begrudgingly appointed Beetlejuice head judge of.

It wasn’t so much that you had invited Beetlejuice as it was that you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep him from staying. Short of banishing him, he would not be left out of your Halloween activities, and the last thing you wanted to do was banish the demon. He could be awfully cranky when he felt ignored, worse when he felt betrayed. Best to keep a close eye on him and leave it there. Shockingly, though, he seemed to be on his best behavior.

That wasn’t saying much, but you appreciated the effort.

He kept the live animals to a minimum, only ate one of the eyeballs hanging from the ceiling, and judged the costume contest as fairly as he could. Fortunately, there was a clear winner: a young zombie whose costume rivalled your own. The judge committee gave him a small skeleton trophy and a candy medal, took some photos with him, and you privately wondered if he had his own ghost-zombie at home to help him with his makeup. Then you shrugged it off and watched – half-mortified, half-impressed – as Beetlejuice summoned a few dead cheerleaders to sing a surprisingly smooth rendition of Time Warp. You were fairly certain a few of his bones came loose during the dance, but you let it slide. The kids were duly impressed, the parents were a suitable distance that they hardly noticed.

It wasn’t until 11:00 PM that all of the adults in the room realized that Beetlejuice had removed the clock that had previously hung on the wall opposite the barn’s door. It took the better part of a half hour to corral the kids to their parents’ respective vehicles, and most of them insisted on hugging you. Warily as ever, you eyed the ones who tried to hug ‘Mr. Beetleman,’ but he somehow managed to turn all of their affections into a high five. Despite yourself, you found yourself smiling.

Once everyone was gone, you turned from the door to assess the barn. It was a disaster. The jack-o’-lanterns had remained lit, as had the candles, but those were the only decorations at thirteen-and-under year old level that had remained undisturbed. The bottles you had placed on the tables, with their faded potion ingredient labels, were toppled over. There were drink puddles and food stains on the floor and half the fog had dissipated. Some of the eyes and bats had come down, others were tangled with the lights on the posts. Somehow, even the pendant lights were flickering slightly.

Beetlejuice did not need sleep. Maybe he could get tired, maybe he couldn’t. You certainly could, and by the time the party was over, you had maxed out your entire energy reserve. So, when your demon told you he’d clean up the next day, you agreed and gave no thought to the fact that it would take him all of two seconds to clean up that night.

Once you had seen off the last of the kids and all of the parents, you trudged back up to your big, scary house. All the light in the barn went out behind you, but you paid it no mind.

Somewhere between the barn and the house, Beetlejuice disappeared. Again, you ignored it. It wasn’t uncommon for Beetlejuice to vanish without telling you, and on Halloween night you imagined there were a hundred more fun things for him to be off doing than watching you get ready for bed. Especially when you caught sight of yourself in your entryway mirror. It was the first time that night that you had seen yourself fully zombified beyond a brief glance at your dim reflection in a darkened, tentacled window.

Your face alone had several large patches of what looked like gaping wounds, and you could see more peeking out from your formerly white collar. You had been going for Proper Academic Zombie, and you looked like you would need a degree in showering to get all this gunk off of yourself. At least you could reuse the costume, maybe disrupt a seminar or two.

Shaking your head, you flicked the light switch beside the front door to turn off the overhead light. Instead of just that light going out, however, the table lamp under the mirror went out as well. So did the hall light over the stairs to your left, the kitchen down the short hallway in front of you, and the living room light beyond that. You tried flicking the switch again. Nothing.

Suddenly, a slam. Several slams all at once. All the shutters you could see swung closed forcefully. From the sound of it, all the shutters on the house closed.

You cleared your throat hesitantly. “Okay, very funny. Beej, that’s you, right?”

Silence.

“Beej?” Though you couldn’t yet hear your heart, you could feel it struggling against the walls of your chest. There was a slight ringing in your ears – the ever-present remnants of your teenaged years. Outside of that: nothing. You took a step, and the creaking of the wood seemed to echo through the whole house. For a brief, crazy moment, you thought about going out to your car. But it seemed the porch light was out too, and being inside a dark house was better than being outside on a dark night.

So, you took another step. Then another. You cursed your shortsightedness in leaving your phone in your room. You reached the stairs. You climbed them, you turned the corner. The wood settle beneath your feet with a deafening creak each step of the way.

There must be a short circuit. There had to be, somewhere. There was no reason for you to have simply lost power. When you reached your room, you saw that your alarm clock was still lit and showing the time, and it was plugged into the same wall outlet as your dark lamp. The box was in your basement.

No way were you going into the basement.

You reached out for your phone. It was dead. You looked over to one of your windows. Of all the windows you’d passed, this seemed to be the only one whose shutters hadn’t closed. Slowly – more slowly than you had moved all night, you crossed the room to look outside. You could see the full moon in all her red-orange beauty. Then, you let out the breath you had been holding. The moon wasn’t going anywhere, even if all the other light was gone.

You should have known better.

A shadow dashed across the moon then, but not at the surface. Through the air. Close to your window. Very, very close.

There was a muffled thud somewhere behind you. You jumped and whirled around to look. When you noticed the light from the moon fading, you slowly turned your head back and saw the shutters swinging closed. Before you could reach out to even open the window, they were completely shut.

Another noise, closer this time.

You couldn’t move. Your heart was racing. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t breathe. You thought about jumping for your bed, some childish thought of pulling the covers over your head before the whatever-it-was could reach you running through your head, but even in your fear you knew it was foolish. It was too late – too close. Your stomach dropped, your hands shook, your legs felt like splintering wood.

Yet another noise. You heard the hinges of your bedroom door waver. It was pitch dark in the room. All at once, a ragged breathing rushed at you across the squeaking floor.

You screamed.

“Beetlejuice!”

Seriously, please reblog.

Tags List: @skiddyyo @a-okay-rj @geeky-marie @darkblueeyedperson @hannah-de-lioncourt @ironmansuucks @missihart23 @ballerinafairyprincess @thewolfisapartofmysoul

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the-voltage-diaries · 3 years

Text

Pulcherrima Rosa Me - Taki Kozaki

‘Pulcherrima rosa me’: Latin for ‘My beautiful rose’.

Disclaimer: Office AU, Hanahaki AU. Now, since it’s Hanahaki, of course it will be angsty. So, time to fasten those seat belts and sit tight.

Word Count: 2225

Author’s note: My first open-ended fic, lmao. Originally was supposed to have smut, but things changed here and there, so you see.

P.S.: Special thanks to @akaiiro-yume for being my proofreader and amazing fangirl buddy

14 years.

That’s how long they had known each other.

To be precise, that’s the number of years they had been the closest of friends.

Never more, never less.

Just two individuals who over time had, step by step, closed in on the gap separating them, narrowing it so much that barely any space remained. They became so used to being around each other that the thought of sharing the tales of their daily life, no matter how embarrassing, bitching and moaning about work and clients, laughing together without bothering to care about how weird they looked seemed like the definition of normal. But that’s the thing ; no matter how closely their paths collided, an invisible line always kept their journeys divided. Most people called that line “friendship”. Taki and (Y/N) had never been anything more than friends.

They never knew how to be anything BUT friends.

So then why was she the only person on Taki’s mind while his eyes shut to bear the pain of throwing up while he hunched over the sink, coughing up a handful of what looked redder than blood, albeit was anything but?

“I want this done by the morning,” Taki told the finance head, handing him the proposal for the project they were planning to bid for. “And when I say morning, I mean I’d like to see it on my table by the time I walk in. Is that alright?”

“Yes, sir,” the man responded, picking up the papers and giving him a quick bow before making his way out, muttering a quiet ‘good night,’ to which the CEO gave him a nod of his own.

Taki then turned in his chair and peeked through the thick glass wall of his cabin in search of his secretary. Once his eyes landed on the familiar raven up-do, his lips, though very quietly and only for a moment, lined up in a hint of a small smile.

There she sat on her table, her eyes focused on her laptop screen while her fingers typed away at the keyboard, not noticing the gaze a pair of dark brown eyes fixated on her.

Instead of calling her immediately to discuss the day’s schedule with her, Taki took a moment to admire the woman who had been at his side for the last two years, professionally speaking. For, beyond the walls of the office, he had known her for more than half of his life.

His eyes made their way across her form; slowly drinking in the way she every so often took a moment to stretch her back, roll her shoulders and her neck before getting back to the task at hand, how one of her delicate fingers came up to push a strand of hair behind the perfect curve of her ear, how she bit her lip in concentration every time she worked against time. God, was she beautifu-

The clang of a pen rolling across the table and falling to the floor startled him back to reality, and he shook his head, rolling his eyes at his carelessness before bending down to pick up the pen.

“(Y/N)!” He called, turning back to his laptop and opening up his schedule. He heard the familiar click-clack of her heels and soon enough, the door opened with a low creak. Taki didn’t even need to look up from the screen to know she was here. “Do we have anything else on the agenda for the day?”

“Yes, actually.”

‘We do?’ Taki thought to himself, his eyes giving his schedule a once-over. He didn’t see anything else on it that needed to be done today, so what was (Y/N) talking abo-

“You have a meeting with the board at 9 AM, then a site visit scheduled at 10 AM, a business call with the head of the Ichinomiya Group at 12 PM regarding the construction of their new hotel in Auckland, another site visit for at a different location at 1 PM, and th-”

“Wait a second, why don’t I see all of this anywhere on my schedule?”

“Because you’re viewing the schedule for 3rd November.”

“Yes, and as far as I remember, today IS 3rd November.”

“No, sir,” (Y/N) said, and it was then that Taki looked up to see the smirk on her face, “I’m pretty sure it’s the 4th today.”

He took a quick glance at his watch and saw that the smaller of the two hands had passed the 12 o’ clock mark, and it was, in fact, 12:30 AM. Which meant that it was, in fact, 4th November.

It also meant that they had worked beyond the designated office hours for the fourth straight day in a row.

“I’m sorry for making you work over time again,” Taki muttered, pursing his lips.

“Nah, that’s okay,” (Y/N) shrugged, sending him a playful wink, “Apart from that cute little pout, you’re paying me for it. Rather handsomely, too, so I’m chill.”

“Firstly, I’m NOT pouting,” Taki muttered, rolling his eyes when he heard his secretary whisper the word ‘denial’, “And secondly, Ms. (L/N), is that how you’ll be talking to your boss now?” He smirked. He would be straight up lying if he said he didn’t enjoy this amused change in the atmosphere. In fact, he welcomed it after the long day he’d had.

“Mr. Boss,” she immediately responded, stretching out the word ‘boss’, to which Taki couldn’t help but scoff, “The office hours are over. I’m under no obligation to kiss your ass anymore.”

And oh, he tried.

He tried so hard to stop that laugh from escaping when (Y/N) made a kissy face at him, but alas, he lost and let it erupt with a low rumble from deep within his chest when she lifted two tiny finger hearts to go along with the flying kisses.

And you know what they say, laughter is contagious. Soon enough, (Y/N) too joined Taki in his wonderland of chuckles, and it wasn’t long before they both laughed so much that their stomachs hurt because each time they’d try to stop, all it’d take is one glance at each other’s faces to lose their shit again.

“Pfft,” (Y/N) scoffed, trying to come down from the rush of euphoria she’d just had, “You should be thanking your lucky stars for having the privilege to get as fun a secretary as me. You have NO idea how lucky you are, I tell you.”

‘I agree,’ Taki thought as he took a moment to calm down, letting a rush of air fill his lungs as he took a deep breath in. He relaxed into his chair and glanced back at the magnificent woman standing before him, truly thankful to have her close by. But as soon as he adoringly grabbed on to the memory of the laugh they’d just shared, another sensation latched on to him, stopping him from thinking any deeper by dragging his attention to the ache building up deep within his chest.

Taki paused, shifting uncomfortably at the unfamiliar sensation. All remnants of humor left him at the way something seemingly gripped at the base of his lungs, squeezing hard. He felt like he couldn’t breathe for a moment, and his discomfort only grew with each passing second as a painful cough arose in his throat, blocking off any passage for air.

“Argh,” he groaned, his fingers pressing at the space between his collarbones, trying to massage the area into creating some sort of a path through the dark fog building up in his throat, so unforgiving that he almost saw black for a moment.

“Taki?” (Y/N) called his name, all her remaining laughter immediately dying down the moment her gaze washed over him. “A-are you okay?”

And just like that, as quickly had the discomfort come, it died down.

It vanished into a thin breeze, leaving Taki gasping for some much needed mouthfuls of air.

“Y-yeah,” Taki responded, still in a daze. He had no idea what just happened, and it seemed so surreal that he almost brushed it off as a hallucination, but the concern in (Y/N)’s eyes told him whatever transpired wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. He took a moment to compose himself, before following up with a much more self-assured “Yes, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“But I feel fine.”

“... Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Are you like, sure sure?”

“No, actually.” He looked up at her, an amused grin floating on his face. “I’m not sure sure that I’m fine.”

“See? I KNEW you weren’t okay. Should I call for a doc-”

“You’ve got it all wrong,” he interrupted, stopping her halfway on her mini-panic spree, “I’m sure-sure sure I’m fine.”

“… You’re a jerk, you know that?” (Y/N) huffed, sending a scowl in Taki’s direction. “One of these days I’m gonna stab you with- with…” her eyes quickly scanned the room, looking for an appropriate object to finish her statement with while Taki tried to control his smirk from spreading any wider, “… with a sticky note.”

“A what?”

… well, it was too late to go back on words. So, grumbling under her breath, (Y/N) repeated, “With a… sticky note.”

“Pfft.”

“Mr. Kozaki.” (Y/N) narrowed her eyes at the man, giving him her least scary glare, “did you just ‘pfft’ me?”

“Yes,” he replied confidently, placing his forearms on the table top, “Yes I did.”

“Watch your back. I really will throw the sticky note at this rate.” (Y/N) turned around, her fingers grasping the doorknob, “… and soon.”

Taki watched her step out of his cabin, an amused twinkle in her eye. “Gee, I’m so scared,” he muttered, mostly to himself, before shaking his head at their childishness and turning back to the work at hand.

But even as his eyes swam across the screen, processing the words and formulating appropriate responses, the back of his mind couldn’t let go of the strange inquisitiveness that poked at it, seeking answers to just one question.

What was that fleeting, deadly little coughing fit all about?

He got so focused on his work that he didn’t notice the diligent finance head step into his cabin again only 30 minutes later, quietly keeping the finished proposal on the glass table before walking out just as quietly, so as not to disturb his concentration. He didn’t notice the same guy stopping by (Y/N)’s table, offering her a steaming mug of coffee and giving her the gentlest of smiles while offering to help if needed. He didn’t notice any of it until he heard the pleasant sound of her laugh, passing through the gaps in the glass walls before bouncing off of them on the inside, creating the most melodious of echos.

His eyes left the screen for a quick second to focus on the scene outside, and what he saw made a strange anxiety rise up within him like tiniest of dew vaporizing and stretching its fingers to reaching out to the sky - slowly rising up from the depths of his stomach, travelling up to his chest and finally solidifying just beneath his lips.

Right in front of him stood (Y/N), her fingers clutching an arm that didn’t belong to Taki, her lips turning up into the brightest of curves, shining so bright one would almost go blind, as she laughed along with the damned finance head about something or the other.

And that’s when Taki felt like the (Y/N) who had been standing just within an arm’s reach this whole time was about to slip away from his very fingers, and the feeling that he wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop it pricked at him, rendering him in a state of confused speechlessness.

‘Wait. Shouldn’t I feel happy for her, considering she’s finally seeing a guy?’ he thought, taking a deep breath. ‘Yeah. It’s a good thing. But then… what is this insecurity I’m feeling right now?’

The answer to that question seemed only a heartbeat away, and the moment he reached out to grasp it, his body jerked backwards, falling onto his chair while his breathing quickened. The somewhat familiar feeling of his throat being clawed at came back to him - much stronger this time. It all happened quick; his brow furrowed into a deeper crease as moisture pricked at the back of his eyes, his world going back for a moment. Taki’s mouth leaped to suck in a croaked breath - which sounded more like a painful gasp at this point - while his fingers gripped at the collar of his shirt, looking for any way to free him of the sudden pain growling in his chest. He felt a powerful cough coming, preceded by short, painful ones.

“Ah,” he let out a breathy moan, the tears finally making their way to the front of his eyes, followed by a few more. With him standing on the thin line separating sanity from delirium, his body lurched forward, finally finding solace in the way his throat forced out tiny balls of red while the moisture building behind his eyelids finally broke apart to slide down his cheek in one, straight line. The second his gullet felt free again, his body shook with need as he gulped in mouthfuls of air.

Once the dark haze clouding his mind finally started to part, he turned his eyes to look at the red chunk his trachea had shoved out. His eyes widened when his fingertips came in contact with the soft, silky skin of the petals - redder than the darkest of rubies.

The petals of the one flower which finally made him piece together his feelings for the woman standing beyond the see-through walls of his cabin.

… Remember how he wanted to know what his coughing fit was all about?

A rose.

Well… guess it’s about time he found out.

#my little crumbcake~#Taki Kozaki #Kings of Paradise #KoP #Voltage Inc #Otome Romance #Love 365 #Love 365: Find Your Story #Kings of Paradise Taki #KoP taki #Kings of paradise fanfic #kop fanfic #taki kozaki fanfic

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misora-msby · 3 years

Text

桜雨 | cherry blossom rain

rating : mature

pairing : oikawa tooru x iwaizumi hajime

word count : 3.5k

themes/warnings : angst, a bit of fluff, takes place post timeskip, non-descriptive sexual content

notes : reposting here from my ao3! heavily based on SuG’s song Sakura Ame, have a listen :)

Baby pink petals fluttered to the ground, dancing in the wind that gave a light chill to those admiring the falling flowers. The air smelled sweet but Oikawa could only feel bitter at the sight of flowers. He hadn’t properly visited Japan for years, and even if he did return, he had always tried to avoid this time of year. But he couldn’t avoid it this time.

“Hey, it’s our last year as high schoolers, isn’t it?” Oikawa hummed as the two volleyball players walked in through the school gates. The pink cherry blossoms falling from the trees dotted around the campus signaled the start of their final year. Iwaizumi turned his head to look at the team captain.

“Is that not obvious enough for you?” Iwaizumi asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m just saying. It’s our last year together.” the brunet shrugged.

The two went silent.

Until a light whack was heard.

“Iwa-chan! Why would you do that?!” Oikawa whined while rubbing his shoulder lightly. Iwaizumi turned to look at the school building, thinking anything would’ve been better than looking at his lifelong best friend. He knew that already. They were likely to go their separate ways after this, and he had been thinking of that since they entered high school.

“Don’t think about that now. I bet you were gonna say something cheesy like “I’ll make this year worthwhile, I’ll bring the team to nationals!”, weren’t you?” Iwaizumi grumbled, looking away from the slightly younger boy. Despite the unfriendly tone of voice that would’ve pushed anyone away, it only made Oikawa gasp,

“Iwa-chan, you know me so well!” before attempting to give a tight hug.

It resulted in a painful kick to the shin.

“Nationals, huh…” Oikawa muttered to himself before shaking his head. He still couldn’t forgive himself for that. For talking big and never being able to get past the other team. For practicing until he incapacitated himself and had to take temporary leave from the team. For not pushing himself in a better way to get the team further. For letting the team and Hajime down.

Letting out a long sigh, he figured he might as well get home quickly, especially to get past the park with the huge cherry blossom tree where they would make promises to each other. Some were simple and they managed to keep; Oikawa lost a race in elementary and promised to buy ice cream for Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi promised to stay the night after they heard a scary urban legend.

Some were a little harder to keep but they managed; Oikawa promised to not let volleyball get in the way so much that he would avoid his studies. Iwaizumi promised to help him walk home whenever his knee started to ache again after the incident. The two of them kept their promise to go on a romantic date once a month.

But the biggest promises were the ones they couldn’t keep; to go to nationals, and to stay together.

Looking back, it was futile. There was no way they could keep those promises, and yet for years Oikawa still felt the guilt bite at him for being unable to do so.

“I’m going to Argentina, to continue with volleyball.” Oikawa mentioned casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal to suddenly travel to the other side of the world. Iwaizumi’s eyes shot wide open and he sat up to look at the other male in the dark with an incredulous expression on his face,

“Huh?!” to say he was shocked would’ve been an understatement. It came out of nowhere, and he didn’t even know what to say.

“There’s some really strong teams there! I figured I’d improve a lot if I could go!”

“... when are you leaving?”

“Hm… I’d say almost immediately. Maybe I’ll hang around a month or two to say my goodbyes.”

Iwaizumi laid back down and shifted around in the bed uncomfortably.

“When will I get that last goodbye?”

Oikawa didn’t say anything for a moment. He just continued to lay beside his best friend and partner.

“Tooru, when will-”

“If you want, right now. But I don’t want that.”

Oikawa knew for a while they’d have to say goodbye eventually. It was just a matter of time. For weeks now he wondered when would’ve been a good time to say it, but he always got scared. He tried to prepare himself, he really did. But with every kiss they shared, every night they spent together, he found himself wanting more.

Even if it was by just a single second, Tooru wanted to stay by Hajime’s side.

“I don’t want to let go of you yet, Hajime. So… if you’re alright with it, I won’t say goodbye yet.” There was just the slightest crack in Oikawa’s voice as he pleaded for him to stay. The tension in the few seconds he spent waiting for a reply made Oikawa feel as if his heart would burst. He made no movement besides a turn of his head to look towards Iwaizumi instead of at the ceiling. Just as he was about to repeat his words in a more direct manner, the bed shifted and he felt a muscular arm pull his leaner body into a warm but slightly stiff hug.

“I hate you, Shittykawa.”

“I love you too, Iwachan.”

There was just a slight scoff from the man beside Oikawa, but within milliseconds he felt a semi rough kiss to his lips. It sent his heart aflutter and his cheeks warmed up.

“Good night, Tooru.”

“Yeah, good night, Hajime.”

The two closed their eyes and drifted off to sleep still in their warm embrace.

“I wanted to stay like that with you forever.”

Oikawa looked once again at his childhood bedroom and ran a hand through his soft hair. Aside from a little bit of dust which had collected on the desk, and the fact that the closet was emptier than it once had been, it looked the same. He had finished unpacking a while ago after dinner with his family, and already took a relaxing bath, so he figured he might as well sleep a little early tonight to get used to the change in time zones.

There was a light knock on the door before it creaked open.

“Tooru-chan, you’ve grown a bit since high school haven’t you? Do you still fit on that bed? If not, I can get you a futon to put in here.” his mother asked.

“Yeah! I haven’t become a giant, mom!” he laughed.

“Mm, okay. You look really tired so get some sleep soon, Tooru-chan.”

“Was just thinking about doing that. Goodnight, mom.”

“Good night.”

The door shut quietly and Oikawa turned off his lights before walking carefully to his bed, careful not to trip over the suitcase that was still left out. The bed was still the same as ever, it felt like home and smelt of nostalgia. And yet it didn’t feel quite right, like it was too big. No matter how he shifted, it never felt right. He tried different positions, changing the setting on the aircon, a different blanket, and yet it still didn’t work.

About an hour later, there were a few little dings from his phone making the former Seijoh captain grab it immediately.

iwachan to “3rd years!!” : Just a reminder we’re meeting at Okonomiyagi at 11:30.

mattsun to “3rd years!!” : i still think that store has a terrible name

makki to “3rd years!!” : i think it tastes good tho

mattsun to “3rd years!!” : true, it’s not too bad

iwachan to “3rd years!!” : Oikawa, you got that?

“Oikawa…” said man let out a deep sigh. Who knew he could miss being called “Trashykawa”, “Crappykawa”, or even “Shittykawa”? He slowly typed out his reply,

“yeah of course! how could i miss meeting you guys? 🤩🤩”

He stared rather intensely at his phone, waiting for a reply. Although it came within the minute, it still felt like ages.

iwachan to “3rd years!!” : “Sure sure, see you there.”

Oikawa put his phone face down and curled up in the thick duvet on his bed. His heart still felt heavy, like a pressure wouldn’t leave him. It felt like it hadn’t left for years but now it felt stronger than ever.

After some more twisting and turning, the brunet finally fell into an uncomfortable and restless sleep.

There was the sound of muffled thumping from the party downstairs, but more importantly was the sound of giggles, kisses, and rustling clothing in the dark bedroom. Safe to say, enough alcohol had been consumed between the two for this to happen.

Oikawa relished in the feeling of the rough kisses from the soft lips of his partner. They tasted like alcohol and juice, probably from whatever cocktail the house owner fancied making for the night. He hadn’t felt anything like this in so long, so he enjoyed every bit of it despite the slight haze in his head from his own drinking.

Before he knew it he was laying on a bed, he didn’t know who’s, but what mattered was how the head in between his legs drew moans and sighs from his lips while providing him intense pleasure. He had been so busy with training he hadn’t realised how long he had gone without this kind of interaction and how badly he missed it.

It didn’t take too long before he reached his end with a loud moan of his partner’s name.

They pulled away and began to get up. In his daze, Oikawa looked at their shadowy figure, still hard to distinguish in the darkness.

“Where are you going?” he asked, the slightest pant audible in his voice.

“My name isn’t ‘Hajime’.” a strangely feminine voice sighed bitterly.

Oikawa’s eyes shot wide open and he inspected the figure more carefully. God… how drunk must he have been to think that person was his past lover or that Iwaizumi would’ve been anywhere in Argentina?

“I- I’m sorry.” he managed to get out.

“It’s fine. I’ll just get going. Though I really didn’t expect this from the notoriously flirty Tooru Oikawa.”

Neither did he really.

Oikawa woke up with a startling feeling as his alarm rang. He groggily reached over and switched it off before staring at the ceiling with slightly squinted eyes. “That was way too embarrassing.” he cringed into his duvet at the painful memory. After that night he swore to never let his teammates drag him to any party like that again.

Oikawa arrived at the little restaurant two minutes before the designated time. Hanamaki and Matsukawa were already sitting inside, looking through the menu while waiting for their friends to arrive.

“Woah! If it isn’t the pro.” Matsukawa waved towards Oikawa as he sat in the chair beside him.

“I really hope that’s a compliment, Mattsun!” the former captain pouted as he took a menu and began flipping through as well.

“It is, captain,” Matsukawa chuckled, “It’s just been a while.”

“Yeah, that’s for sure. I mean, I bumped into you guys at the shrine once or twice during New Years. But we didn’t actually sit down to talk.”

“You were always really busy those times. Iwaizumi said the two of you haven’t even met since we graduated.” Hanamaki stated.

“I uh… well, our schedules never really matched when I was back visiting! But now I’m back for three months, so I made sure to meet you guys.” Oikawa put on a big grin.

“Not that you really had a choice.”

“Yeah. I know.”

A couple more minutes had passed and the three looked at their watches, wondering where their last friend was. Just as Hanamaki was about to send a message to their group chat to check on him, Iwaizumi ran up to the table.

“Sorry I’m late! Oh, Oikawa, you’re finally showing up.” he said, somewhat surprised.

“I’m kinda hurt you’d think I wouldn’t show up to meet my best friend.” he teased before receiving a flick to the forehead.

“Yeah yeah, sure you’re hurt, Shittykawa.” Oikawa felt the fluttering in his heart again at that nickname. His eyes widened ever so slightly and his single second of silence spoke for itself.

“Sure am.” he laughed lightly while Iwaizumi turned to talk to someone behind him.

“You don’t have to be shy, they’re just my former teammates.”

“Yes, but I’ve never talked to Oikawa-san.” a shy feminine voice spoke up while the person stepped out and gave a small bow of greeting to the three men.

“Oikawa, this is my fiancee, Nami. I thought it’d be good for you to meet her before the wedding.” Iwaizumi spoke, and Oikawa felt a pain pierce his heart.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki shared a glance, already realising how Oikawa still felt after all the years. It must’ve been painful to hear that.

He was expecting it, he knew he was invited back to Japan to help plan the wedding and be the best man for the wedding. But it still hurt way more than he expected.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Nami-san. Oh, should I call you Iwa-chan too then?” he asked with a little laugh. Of course, it was met with a whack on his back.

“No way, dumbass!”

But Nami giggled and nodded, “Go ahead! But I think it would be confusing, since that’s what you call Hajime.”

“She’s really nice…” Oikawa thought to himself. Had she been a rude person, he’d have a reason to dislike her, but he had none. Especially from what he’d seen on her social media which Matsukawa had sent to him. She was an event planner for some high end brands, regularly helped out in charities, and she was extremely pretty. She could probably do modelling if she wished. Everything about her made Oikawa jealous and made him regret half of his later life decisions. But he continued to smile and said,

“I think I’ll just stick with calling you Nami-chan.”

“It was really nice to meet you all! I’ve got a meeting to go to, so I’ll see you again another day!” Nami waved and hurried off to the bus stop. The four men waved goodbye to her as well before turning to each other.

“I’ve gotta go too. Girlfriend asked me to pick up some stuff from the grocery store.” Matsukawa said.

“My mom asked me to mail some stuff at the post office.” Hanamaki spoke as well.

“I guess we’ll just discuss more about the wedding plans tomorrow at dinner. Kindaichi and Kunimi told me they’d make it then, so make sure you’re on time.” Iwaizumi reminded, making the two laugh. He still retained some sort of habits of giving reminders as the former vice-captain of the volleyball team.

“You were the only one late today, Iwaizumi.” Hanamaki reminded him in return.

He rubbed the back of his neck in slight embarrassment, “Yeah, sorry about that. Well, see you guys tomorrow then,” he smiled and waved as the two of them headed their separate ways.

“What about you? Doing anything?” Iwaizumi asked Oikawa.

“Nah. I’m just gonna look for a temporary job or do training until I go back. But until then I’m free. You?”

“Same here. But if you’re free, I want to talk to you.”

For some reason, that surprised Oikawa. Especially with how they parted those years ago. It was painful and they couldn’t talk for weeks before Hanamaki and Matsukawa ranted in their group chat about how university was basically shortening their life span. It wasn’t the most conventional way to get the four of them talking again, but it definitely worked.

Without having to think about it, the two of them began walking in the direction of their houses. It felt like high school again, maybe just with a slightly different view as they grew a couple centimeters taller and a couple of new shops popped up.

“Are you okay?” Iwaizumi suddenly asked.

“Of course I’m fine! I’m glad to see you’re happy, and Nami-chan looks like a perfect match for you!” Oikawa gave a wide grin.

“I know that much, but are you alright?”

The smile on Oikawa’s face faltered slightly before slowly transforming into a small smile of self-pity and strange fatigue.

“Are you sure you want me to be your best man?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, but it was enough for Iwaizumi to hear.

“Who else would it be?” he replied nonchalantly, as if it were always meant to be that way.

Oikawa’s brow furrowed in confusion. How could he be fine with that? He had hurt Iwaizumi and they hadn’t had a proper conversation in ages, let alone met up.

“I thought you hated me. Especially after-”

“You’re still the most important person in my life. As stupid as it sounds. It wasn’t exactly what we had planned for as kids but I want you by my side in the most important part of my life.”

The setter was almost frozen in his tracks. It was like he was hit by some sort of revelation, but he still felt pathetic. How many years had it been since they graduated and properly broke up? How many times had he tried to get into a relationship only to break up with them because he felt like he couldn’t really get over his best friend? How many times had he laid in bed thinking of what could’ve been of them?

“It was hard. You decided to go to Argentina a little after we lost to Karasuno so it felt like I was punched in the gut twice,” Iwaizumi started, “But I couldn’t get too angry. I thought if going there made you happy, then that’s fine. If you were happy, I’d be happy.” He then shot a glare at Oikawa, “It wasn’t easy to finally accept that though.” After being decently amused by his former captain’s reaction, he just smiled and looked back at the familiar road they walked down.

The two walked in silence for a bit as Oikawa collected his thoughts. He realised he had been clinging onto a hopeless dream for years now, trying to fix a thread between them which he frayed himself with blunt shears. But as frayed as the thread had become, it still existed and remained strong throughout the many years. Surely, with a little mending it could be fixed, he thought. It wouldn’t be the same but it could be fixed. He would do his best to make sure it was.

“We’re here.” Iwaizumi said, and Oikawa looked up from the road to see the large cherry blossom tree under which they had spent their youth. The baby pink flowers fell slowly, dancing in their path down to the ground.

One kiss was followed by another, and then another. The petals from the tree continued to rain down with the cool wind of the night.

“Tooru, you have to get back already. Your flight is in the morning.” Iwaizumi muttered against the bruised lips of his partner.

“Just one more.” he muttered and pulled his vice-captain in for another deep and longing kiss while the other tried to pull away.

“Tooru, we can’t-”

“Please, one last one. I promise-”

“Stop, dammit! I can’t take it!”

At that, Oikawa froze. His half-lidded eyes shot wide open and he looked at Iwaizumi who had gripped the setter’s wrists. Slowly, he let go of the ace’s shirt and took a step back. The expression on Iwaizumi’s face was one of agony and anger, and Tooru could only think, “I put such a painful look on his face. What’s wrong with me?” There was a sharp feeling of pain in his chest as he realised what he had done.

Slowly, Iwaizumi let go of his wrists and took a step back as well.

It was like a knife became sharper and pierced deeper into the wound in Oikawa’s heart. He realised quickly he was being woken from the dream he loved so much. The wind no longer just cooled his flushed skin, but froze his heart as well.

“I… I’ll miss you, dumbass.”

As he said those words, Tooru couldn’t help but think Hajime looked so handsome with the way the cherry blossoms fell behind him. That look accompanied by the slight glitter of the single tear rolling down his cheek, illuminated in the moonlight and streetlights, was a sight Tooru would never forget.

Thinking back to that time, and looking at the way the petals fell around Iwaizumi, Tooru was reminded of how painful their last interaction was and bit his lower lip. The old scar on his heart ached slightly, but it didn’t hurt near as much as before.

“Iwa-chan,”

“Hm?”

“Think I’ll be able to find someone at the wedding?”

It earned a half-incredulous look but it quickly became a hearty laugh, followed by a light whack to the setter’s back with just the slightest lingering touch.

“That’s a stupid question, dumbass.”

The old scar hurt and Tooru realised he may never love someone as much as he loved Hajime, but he could learn to finally move on. Bit by bit.

And maybe he could learn to appreciate the falling cherry blossoms in their dance once again.

#iwaoi #iwaizumi x oikawa #oikawa x iwaizumi #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #aoba johsai #hanamaki takahiro #matsukawa issei #iwaoi angst #misoramsby #oikawa #iwaizumi #oikawa imagines #iwaizumi imagines

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nillawrites · 4 years

Text

MACARONI & GLUE [Teacher!Henry]

In which Mr.Cavill’s kindergartners come up with a master plan to set him and Ms.Y/L/N up.

— A/N: hi! this is the first oneshot im posting here, if you recognize it it’s because this is actually something i’d previously posted for somebody else on a diff acc but just rewrote it for henry haha. anyways, requests are open and i plan to fill them within the next week! thanks for reading!

— WORDS: 1.8k

— WARNINGS: n/a

Henry shuffled behind the wall as he eyed the woman just down the hall. Her legs looked great in her beige skirt as she bent down to give each of her first graders high fives as they walked into the classroom. Her smile was bright and her love for her students radiated throughout the entire school, brightening everyone’s day. Brightening his day.

When all of her students reentered the classroom, she stood to dust off her outfit and was about to follow behind them, but something caught her eye. A mysterious brown curl peeked out from the wall just a few feet away. She chuckled to herself and shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Good morning, Mr.Cavill.” Y/N called out, knocking him off his balance a little. He presumed he was being sneaky but that obviously wasn’t the case, and now embarrassed wasn’t nearly a good enough word to describe how he felt in this moment.

He pocketed his hands in his khakis and stepped out from behind the wall, a bashful smile on his lips to match hers. The blush on the burly man’s cheeks was impossible to miss and he swayed back and forth on his toes as he replied huskily, “Good morning to you too, Ms.Y/L/N.”

She considered teasing him a bit more but decided against it when one of Henry’s own students came up to tug on the side of his tucked-in button up shirt. Henry looked down at the brunette boy who was staring right back at him with expectant eyes considering he hadn’t come back to the classroom in all but a minute.

Henry lifted his head back to Y/N as he pointed towards his door and began to back away with a lopsided grin, insisting, “I should probably get back to my own class now, eh?”

Y/N shut her eyes and grinned, “Yeah, I think that’d be a good idea.”

By the time she’d finished her sentence the little boy had pulled him completely behind the wall but she didn’t fail to hear his “See you at lunch!” before his door was slammed shut. She rolled her eyes and laughed before ducking into her own classroom.

Henry tortured himself over that moment for the rest of that morning. His kindergartners were clever enough to realize something was wrong with him when they noticed him staring down at his demo macaroni art project, his face stoic. While the classroom buzzed with life around him, he remained sitting at the too-tiny table with a few of his other students, cheeks still ablaze.

And the brunette boy from earlier, Liam, knew exactly why.

“I think teacher has a crush on miss Y/L/N.” He said to his friend nonchalantly, hands messy as he attempted to expertly place a piece of macaroni onto his masterpiece.

His friend Jamia perked up at his claim, her eyes going wide and ginger curls bouncing. “How do you know?”

Liam shrugged, tipping his Elmer’s glue bottle and letting out a lot more than intended. “He acts weird around her!”

Jamia smiled and swooned, holding her hands to her heart. “Are they together?”

Liam only shook his head, peacefully continuing to add onto his art. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when Henry stood that he came up with an idea. The little boy ordered Jamia to get him some construction paper and stickers, the girl excitedly coming back with the “secret supplies” a minute later.

He explained the plan to his friend and they both got to work, Liam leading the operation. His tongue stuck out from his lips as he tried to keep his hands steady, writing out a few words to the best of his ability. He tried to sound out the words which helped him a little, and when they were done, the two folded the letter they’d created and placed a Thomas the Tank Engine sticker over it. Jamia added the final touch by gluing a random piece of macaroni to make it look more presentable.

Just in the nick of time, as well. Henry walked around the class to check that everyone was doing their work correctly, and when he got to the two’s table, excitement was written all over their faces. He should’ve known then and there that something was suspicious, his eyes flickering down to the sealed letter. However, he thought nothing of it, giving them a thumbs up and walking back to his desk.

Y/N wiped her hands, sighing to herself as she looked over her empty classroom. Everyone had been dismissed to recess and it was rare that she experienced silence like this, so every time she did, she made sure to take advantage of it.

Leaning back in her seat, she rubbed over her eyes. She loved her students to death, but jeez, did they wear her out. Her silence was broken when she heard some kind of rustling, causing her to begrudgingly open her eyes. She did so just in time to notice a tiny finger pushing a pink folded piece of construction paper underneath the crack of her door.

This brought a small smile to her lips and she stood from her squeaky seat, short heels clicking against the marble flooring. She bent down to grab the paper with the Thomas the Tank Engine sticker, her manicured fingers peeling it back and carefully opening it.

DeEr Miss Y/L/N

Yu ar s o beeOtEfull and s mart. I lov yu.

Frum, mister Caveel

An uncontainable laugh ripped past her lips as she read over the letter that was so obviously written by one of Mr.Cavill’s kindergartners. The spelling gave that much away immediately.

She couldn’t deny how sweet it was, though.

A knock on her door caused her head to whip back up, meeting the eyes of none other than Mr.Cavill himself through the window of the door. He wore his signature good-guy smile that only got wider once he noticed that he’d startled Y/N the slightest bit, the woman holding a hand to her heart.

She quickly folded the letter back up and went to swing the door open, allowing Henry to walk into her classroom. He took the liberty of shutting it behind himself and admired the view as she walked back to her desk, plopping down in her chair again.

“Long day, huh?” Henry asked, walking over and pulling a chair up to the other side of her desk.

“You have no idea.” Y/N sighed, biting her lip and watching as his perfect hands began to unpack the lunch he’d brought along. Her stomach growling was what jolted her from her trance and made her remember one of her current frustrations. “I forgot my lunch at home and the tiny bag of Cheetos I had isn’t really helping me either.”

Henry jumped into action at her words and he pushed one of his dishes her way, insisting that she take it. “It’s only two tacos, but it’s better than a bag of Cheetos.”

Y/N frowned and looked down at the food, “Are you sure? I could totally just get more chips.”

“I’m sure.” Henry reinforced, his heart racing at her reluctant, kind attitude. He brought his leftover restaurant chips and salsa out and set them down on her desk, the two beginning to eat in comfortable silence.

He would sometimes catch a glimpse of her when she wasn’t looking, admiring how she tried to eat politely in front of him while still unknowingly having a piece of beef on the corner of her lip. This made him chuckle and her gaze shifted back to him, confusion written over her face.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing.” Henry quickly shook his head, sporting a playful grin which she reciprocated.

The two’s relationship was strange. It was a constant push and pull, an almost there but never really. He’d made it very clear from the first week of school that he thought she was amazing and she reciprocated those feelings, but no matter how the conversation went, it always ended with a “We’re co-workers, we can’t”.

Obviously, that never stopped Henry from trying.

“What’s this?” He cocked his head and wiped his mouth, recognizing the Thomas the Tank Engine stickered letter from his own classroom.

Y/N licked her fingers and laughed, nodding towards the paper. “Why don’t you see for yourself?”

Henry pursed his lips at her semi-scary words but reached to grab the paper anyways, opening it and quickly reading over the broken English. Y/N watched with a smirk once he set the letter down, trying to stifle his grin as he rubbed his temples.

“Anything you’d like to say for yourself?” She teased, leaning a little bit closer to him.

Henry let out a hearty laugh and shook his head. “Kids and their wild imaginations, right? But maybe it’s not wild. I heard kids are good at sensing things, ya’know? Like ghosts and stuff.”

Y/N gave him a puzzled look and Henry realized what he’d just rambled about was strange so in an attempt to redeem himself, he clarified.

“B-But maybe instead of ghosts, it’s love. They can sense love. Maybe.”

Y/N laughed at his desperate attempt to regain his composure and explain himself but it was fruitless and Henry realized this too, laughing along with her. This fit went on for about 30 seconds before she was wiping her eyes and leaning back in her seat, tapping on her desk with her nails.

Her rhythmic pace made him nervous as he leaned back as well, awaiting her next words. It was obvious that she wanted to say something but something was holding her back, and Henry knew exactly what it was.

“Y/N.” He whispered, not willing breaking their eye contact for a mere second. “Say it.”

She bit her lip and took a deep breath, scared to let the words leave her mouth. They’d been beating around the bush for so long and this isn’t the only time he’s offered her his lunch at all (She was a forgetful person), but today felt different and they both felt it. Everyone around them knew it- Even five year old kids, it seemed. It was time to stop the games.

“..Maybe it is love.” Y/N nodded, the corners of her mouth lifting ever so slightly. “I guess we’ll have to find out over dinner and a huge glass of wine, huh?”

Henry’s eyes widened as she finally allowed him in- gave him a chance at the one thing he’d been yearning after for so long. “A-Are you serious?” He stuttered out, his smile that of an excited child’s.

“Yes, I’m serious.” She confirmed happily, beginning to help him pack up his lunch. “I think I’m finally ready to put myself out there again.. And to be frank, I really like you.”

“Well duh. Who wouldn’t like me? I’m tall, funny, and incredibly handsome.” Henry jokingly rolled his eyes just as the bell rung, signifying the second half of their school day. When she scoffed, he continued, “So, uh, I’ll pick you up at seven?”

Y/N smiled widely and nodded, shooing the man out of her class just as kids began to pour back in.

“Sounds great. Now get to class, Mr.Cavill.”

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill imagines #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill smut #henry cavill oneshot #henry cavill oneshots #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fluff

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phantomphangphucker · 4 years

Text

Ectober Day 30: Gathering - The Fright In Halloween

Of course ghosts should celebrate freaking Halloween. The fact that they don’t in the show is a goddamn insult. And it turns out that Danny is a scary son of a corpse.

Danny walks into his room to see the FrightKnight, of all ghosts, just...standing there. Danny tilts his head, “um, hello? Can I help you?”.

The FrightKnight seems as if he’s smiling, “seasons greetings Phantom!”.

Danny blinks, “it’s...not the Christmas truce yet”.

The FrightKnight looks slightly offended, nodding and grumbling to himself, “I figured Phantom would be unawares. Which is precisely why I had to come personally”, nodding again and looking to Danny. Who’s really tempted to point out that he can quite easily hear everything he said. FrightKnight speaking to Danny again, “I’m here to formally invite you to the Halloween Rapine!”.

Danny tilts his head and smirks, of course there was some ghost celebration on Halloween. And honestly, he immediately loves how utterly cliche and spooky that is. “Tell me no more, I’m down. Whatever weird shit this is, it’s weird shit I’m doing”.

The FrightKnight seemingly smiles as Wulf pops his head over and onto the window frame, tongue lolling out.

Danny beams, “Wulf! Good to see ya buddy”. Wulf grins devilishly and slashes through the air, making a portal.

Danny points at the FrightKnight as the three walk through the portal, “I will be so very disappointed if this is just trick-or-treating. I expect better from ghosties”.

The FrightKnight laughs, “we share plenty with the mortals”, grinning almost cruelly, “we are tricky things after all”. Danny gives a matching devilish grin. Tricks and jokes were right up his alley. So long as they didn’t harm after all.

Danny’s not even surprised that whatever is held at FrightKnight’s castle. Only acknowledging that fact with a wider smirk. As they dramatically enter. FrightKnight swishing his cape, Wulf howling, and Danny screaming, “THE GHOST WITH THE MOST IS HERE SPOOKY BABIES!!!”, repeatedly raising his eyebrows dramatically.

Skulker shakes his head with a smile before clapping Danny on the back, “you’re indeed here whelp, now we can finally call whatever friends you happen to have. Those snow yeti’s I believe”.

Danny snickers, “my worshipers? Yeah they’re definitely friends”, looking around as Skulker screws up his face, unsure if Phantom is being serious or not. Danny can see most of his frenemies along with others that are clearly friends with his frenemies. And then...there’s the Box Ghost. Chuckling Danny turns his head back to Skulker, “so what? Me being here will just what? Ghostly ping my friends?”.

Ember snorts and elbows him, “that’s exactly what happens dipstick. So long as they’re in the Zone, they get the call”.

Danny frowns, “well that just won’t do. I’m positive one is firmly not in the Zone”.

Skulker beams, “surely I can hunter them down!”. Wulf nods eagerly and steps up.

Danny actually cackles, “good luck with that one! I’m pretty sure none of you have ever met the other Phantom. Her names Dani, with an ‘i’. Smells the same as me Wulf. But a girl. And Skulker, while I don’t honestly mind the hunting me. If you hunt her, I will skin and eat you. Find her fine, with Wulf. But maybe expect to get your ass kicked by a one-year-old twelve-year-old”, smiling happily at their confused faces, “last time I saw her she punched Vlad in the face. And last I heard she was in New York stealing apples and tricking people into thinking she didn’t have hands”.

Skulker laughs, “oh we are getting her. Not going to question how there’s another Phantom”. Wulf grins and makes a portal, the two leaving.

Ember elbows him again, “you have a daughter?”.

“Technically, she’s Vlad’s”, Ember coughs and chokes slightly at this while Danny continues, “but she’s made from my genetics. So technically, I do”.

Ember shakes her head, “the weirdest things happen to you”.

Danny sighs happily, “I know. It’s great”.

A couple seconds later the Far Frozen enter looking like the tough warriors they are. Scowls on their faces and most with weapons on their belts.

Kitty and Johnny, wrapped up in each other, wander over to Danny. Kitty speaking, “I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen the Yeti ghosts. Scary friends you got”.

Danny just smirks as FrostBite notices him, wide grin breaking out and ears perking. The group of yeti’s follow after him as they all come up and bow before Danny. While all of Danny’s frenemies blink and gape. FrostBite stands, shaking Danny’s hand as he speaks, “it is splendid to see you again Great One! I am unsurprised one such as you is enjoying Halloween Rapine. I do hope it lives up to any expectations you may have”.

Danny chuckles, “I have no clue what’s happening other than ticks and my friends will be showing. I’m already amused”.

ColdStep beams, ears perking up, “you are far too easy to please, but I expect no less from the mighty saviour”.

Danny goes about making friendly with all of them. Receiving plenty of cheer, compliments and bits of devotion. While Johnny whispers to Kitty, “the brat wasn’t kidding. He has worshipers”.

Ember shakes her head, “how did that even happen?”.

Danny chuckles, hands behind his head, as he wanders over to the three, “now that would be telling, wouldn’t it?”.

Not even three seconds later everyone but Danny jumps from a booming voice, “where is he!?!”. Danny spinning his head around with a large grin. Shouting, “Pandora!”, quickly walking towards her and spotting Dorathea slightly behind her, “and Dora! It’s great to see you. How have you two been?”.

Pandora claps him on the shoulder hard but fond, while the Box Ghost promptly hinds behind the Ghost Writer. Pandora’s voice quieter but still booming, “I have been well! And I’m sure you have been busy as ever!”.

Danny chuckles and nods as Dora hugs him tightly, tucking her head under his chin, “Prince Phantom, it’s been too long”.

Danny pats her back, “any length is too long. Your kingdoms been well?”. while the ghosts within ear shoot are, once again, gapping.

Ember giving Danny a questioning look as Dora pulls away, still clinging to his hands. Danny chuckles and looks at Ember, “I’m something of an adoptive brother to Queen Dora here. The rest of you best call her Dorathea”. Dora quickly hugging him again before composing herself into the form of a proper queen and sending a curt nod to the group.

Pandora laughs, “you have truly splendid company! How is lady Phantom?”.

Danny shrugs but points up at her, “no clue but I bet she’ll show now”.

And as if on queue, some seriously wondering if this was planned.

Dani, very obviously related to Danny and a Phantom, comes flying through a portal screaming, “THE MINI GHOST WITH THE MOST IS HERE BITCHES!”. Skulker looking disheveled and a little dented while Wulf is snickering.

Skulker points at Danny, “your child is a menace, Phantom”. Both Phantom’s smirk at that.

Danny points at Dani, “that was, almost, my line you little shit! What were you doing when they showed?”.

Dani digs in her pocket and pulls out an avocado, “stealing avocado’s”. Danny chuckles with a smile, “never change, never change”.

Danny walks to Skulker as Dani catches up with Pandora. Smirking at the hunter, “got beat up?”.

Skulker points at him, “menace. Who’s her mom anyway? Are you even dating?”.

Danny taps his chin and chuckles, “well, technically, the ‘mom’ builds and creates the child, the ‘dad’ just provides genetics. So Vlad is”.

Skulker spits out the drink he had nabbed, “is that serious?”.

Danny smirks, “she’s not related to him but yes. He made her”, patting Skulkers startled arm, “have fun with that knowledge”.

Danny wanders over to the drink table, taking a wine glass of fuchsia ectoplasm and swirling it. The FrightKnight next to him looks around and gives a curt nod, “you have more plentiful allies than expected Phantom”.

Danny chuckles, “not everyone’s here actually. I highly doubt Amorpho counts as a friend but there is one who is definitely not here. But they’ll be on time. They always are”.

The LunchLady coughs, “you are on pleasant terms with that one? The shape-shifter?”.

Danny wiggles his hand in the air, “that’s questionable. We’ve got an agreement, a truce of sorts. Same goes with Nocturne actually”.

FrightKnight nods, “you have strong friends and truces”.

Danny only smiles wildly as a voice sounds from behind them, “indeed he does”.

Danny turns around and smiles at ClockWork, “timely as ever”, looking at the FrightKnight, “which means everyone is indeed here”.

While the FrightKnight is rather confused. He knew most ghosts. Not knowing of lady Phantom made sense, being not a normal or full ghost. But this one, “and who might you be?”.

ClockWork smirks and picks up their own glass of ectoplasm, floating around to be in better view of everyone, “I am a many plentiful thing. Everything you never want anyone to be. Hands on a clock going round and round forever, counting down everything’s existence”.

Technus, who had been walking by, pulls a face, “you have strange friends ghost child”.

Danny blinks at the technology ghost, “sweet Ancients, no monologuing? You sick?”.

Technus blinks, “I’m not doing any evil plots? No reason”.

Danny mouths, ‘wow’. While ClockWork smirks, watching FrostBite side-eyeing them all the while.

FrostBite stands before ClockWork before bowing, “I have seen you in riddles and myths Ancient one. The Great One has mighty alliances”.

ClockWork pats the yetis head, “ever so much more. I do believe I mentor him quite well”. Half the room freezes at that, having not known Phantom actually had a ghost guardian.

FrostBite manages to bow deeper, “then it is an even greater honour to met you”, before standing and nodding his head at Danny, “I feel I should have expected as much, yet you always surprise”.

Danny chuckles, “always will”.

The FrightKnight comes to stand more stiff and before ClockWork, “are you truly an Ancient?”.

Pretty well everyone had gathered around, curious and stunned. None had so much as seen an Ancient ghost.

ClockWork grins, “that I am and more. I am the first. Mortals know me a Father Time and The Norns most commonly. I am ClockWork, master and guardian of time. I have seen every action taken, every word spoken, every choice made. In the past, in the current, and in every possible future there will ever be”.

Danny throws an arm around ClockWork, who shifts into an old man, “the McTimeDaddy! They’re grrrrrrrreat!”.

Ember blinks and mutters, “our opponents are dead, very very dead”.

Danny snorts and points at her, “every fucker here is dead”.

Ember glares, “you know what I mean dipstick”.

“Well, I surely don’t know what you mean by ‘opponents’”.

The FrightKnight nods strongly, “ghosts gather in teams with those they are friendly, and as humans go around for treats, we go around for tricks”.

Kitty blows a bubblegum bubble, making a point to not react to ClockWork shifting into a child as she speaks, “be scary Danny. The gathering with the most scares under their belt wins. You can only actually hit ghosts who have hit you though, so its usually really hands-off”.

Danny smirks, damn well knowing no ghosts really thought him capable of being a scary mother fucker. But Dan got his shit from somewhere and it firmly wasn’t Vlad. “So prank and spread generalised terror to other ghosts? Act out on that ghostly nature, that yes, I absolutely have noticed is stronger closer to Halloween. And everyone hits me so I guess it’s free willy for me”.

Everyone nods while Skulker speaks, “and our first hit is Plasmius-”.

Danny snorts, “Plasmius has friends?”. Quite a few chuckle while Skulker shakes his head, “he’s alone. But well, everyone hates him and he owes me money”.

Danny nods, “fair enough”, while Dani comes up, “I’m skipping that one then. I want nothing to do with Murder Father”.

Danny snorts, “sticking with that title?”.

“He tried to destroy me so it works. Fucking prick”.

Danny, in mock shock, “who taught you to speak like that?”.

Dani grins goofily, “you did!”.

Danny smiles fondly and proud, “damn fucking right I did, you weird-ass daughter of a corpse”.

ClockWork shakes their head with a fond smile, “you have brutalised that phrase to the point it’s almost unrecognisable”, patting Dani’s head and floating in their child form in front of her, “I’ll stay behind with you. Vladimir has no place knowing Daniel’s true mentor”.

Danny chuckles as Dani and ClockWork descend into tale-telling. Before he walks with Skulker and the others to fly to Vlad’s mansion.

Vlad, firmly expecting to get messed with as he was every year, is hardly phased by the floating plates or moaning or random snarls or feral animals chomping at him or eyeballs appearing on things.

Danny watches from afar with Skulker, “he’s really used to this shit I see. I know y’all fuckers probably mean this as a ‘show me how it’s done’ but I’ve got a leg up on this fucker”. Skulker side-eyes Danny slightly, not really believing him. But shrugs, “just don’t embarrass yourself, that’s the opposite of the point”.

Danny snickers, “just know this. I’m not actually injured”. Skulker is honestly more confused because Danny being hurt would not scare anyone actually.

Meanwhile, Danny flies off and duplicates himself. Hiding his duplicates in various parts of the house and, having finally pick up a particular skill of Dan’s, sets them into varying states of seemingly melting into or being ectoplasmic goo. Plastering every face with looks of agony and horror.

Letting the first one seep ectoplasm down from the roof to splash onto Vlad’s desk next to his hand. Vlad rolls his eyes but stills as what looks like Phantoms very gooey melted hand lands on the desk. Promptly screaming like a little girl. Danny snickering, that didn’t take long.

Vlad backs off and heads to the bathroom, fully intending to splash his face with water to make sure he’s not dreaming. Only for a barely intact and crying Phantom head and shoulders to fall out from in the mirror, it’s face slamming into the sink and spattering ectoplasm on Vlad, who stumbles back and falls on his ass.

Vlad looks up as he scrambles to stand, trying to avoid the sight of sink Phantom foaming and overflowing from the sink, making a mess on the floor. Only to scramble faster as a stretched out dissolving Danny torso melts down from the ceiling, splattering to the floor just after he scampers off.

Skulker is firmly gaping from his spot on the hill, impressed and...disturbed. Barely having half the mind to hit record on his binoculars to prove the screams. No one had ever gotten Vlad in years. Watching as another partly melted Phantom staggers down a hall Vlad was hurrying past only to explode. Sending the head flying into the hallway Vlad was in. Vlad turning his head and gagging as the eye flies out and nearly hits him.

Vlad turns to go down into his lab, firmly wanting to make sure there isn’t any experiments going, only to stager down into a goddamn pool of ectoplasm and melting Phantoms. One grabbing onto his rob sleeve making Vlad pass out.

Danny sends away the duplicates and hovers above the unconscious Vlad, “whelp that was exactly as expected. Always is”.

The FrightKnight and FrostBite coming to float next to Danny. FrostBite caps Danny’s shoulder, “remind me to never encourage you to scare me”.

Danny chuckles, “wouldn't dream of it Frosty”.

The FrightKnight shakes his head at Danny, “why did you even need my help with Halloween last year?”.

Danny waves him off, “I was younger then. Plus, I do this to Vlad once every few months or so. He thinks they’re nightmares”.

Ember sticks her head through the ceiling, “not that I’m complaining, but why?????”.

Danny points at her but glares down at Vlad, “so that the idea of cloning me will forever haunt him and be his worst fucking nightmare. In short, intentional traumatisation as revenge”.

The FrightKnight nods, rather impressed, “I’m guessing he did try cloning you and they all melted?”.

Danny grunts as they all fly out through the ceiling and head back, “all but one, but he wanted that one to melt”.

Ember grumbles, “that asshole. Mini Phantom’s adorable”.

Danny points at her aggressively as they land back in the Nightmare Castle, “damn fucking straight”.

ClockWork smiles at the group while Dani’s off stuffing her face, turning her head and a hand a-hundred and eighty degrees, waving and smiling. Multiple other ghosts jerking slightly.

Danny shakes his head and walks over, “you're doing wrong. You’re missing the neck-snapping sound and you’re supposed to grin maliciously”. ClockWork grimaces slightly at Danny using his, creatively named, ‘murder voice’ A.K.A. Dan’s deep evil sounding voice, Danny speaking, “it also helps to say”, deep voice, “hello Dani”.

Technus screws up his face, seriously wondering why that particular tone was deeply unnerving.

Skulker grunts, “menace”, and holds up his binoculars, pointing at the Box Ghost who, like usual, was forced to be the scorekeeper, because he couldn’t scare for a damn. Skulker speaking, “we got five, goddamn five, on Vlad”.

Danny points at him, “that was all me Skulkie”. Skulker nods, not even bothering to deny that after the crap Phantom pulled.

The FrightKnight looks around and nods, “our next hit is an actual gathering. Walker’s”. Pretty well everyone grins maliciously at that.

Danny points, “his ‘gathering’ is just his goons and Bullet ain’t it?”. Danny chuckles at everyone’s nods.

Danny smirks and wanders to a room with a mirror as everyone else busy with getting this or that ready. Popping out and basically polishing his fangs, this was a great excuse to have the massive bastards out. Knowing full well only ClockWork had actually seen them. Was way too easy to hurt himself if he kept them out in fights. Ruffling his hair to make his tapered ears more noticeable, before tapping his chin. Floating out and over to ClockWork, testing his elbow on the elderly looking ghost, “question. Will the Observants assault me if I pull a Dan? Seeing as I know you know I’ve got that whole transform into any version or age of myself thing down?”.

ClockWork smirks almost cruelly, “sur-”, they don’t even get to finish as screaming from the Observants fills the Zone. Two suddenly appearing in front of Danny. One pointing at him, “absolutely not”.

Danny smirks, “so that's a yes then? Great”, clapping the Observant who was the one in charge of watching him, as every ghost had their own Observant, “I appreciate your support”, the Observant shrieks in annoyance and the two just leave.

The Box Ghost shrugs, “counts”, and adds one more scream.

Danny and ClockWork smile, Danny speaking, “actually, add about ten thousand”. Looking at ClockWork, who says, “eleven thousand and eight”.

Danny blinks and grins, “wow, that many still haven’t gone numb to my shit?”. While everyone else looks at him.

Skulker muttering as he walks over, “you caused that loud screaming?”.

Danny smirks, “I traumatised the Observants too. That and I’m also horrifyingly difficult to them”.

ClockWork nods at Skulker, “they glimpsed the future without proper context. Believed the apocalypse was happening-”. Danny cuts in, “again”. ClockWork picks back up, “-technically never. But, that’s what you get for viewing in passing and with only an eye for futures not presents. It is our present and past that gives us our meaning and definition”.

FrostBite comes up laughing, “though I’m sure time-travel messes with that some!”.

Danny grins, “oh you have no idea. Least I ain’t traumatised by it”, before scooting off to be alone.

Skulker wants to ask what the Zone Phantom did to traumatise the Observants of all ghosts, as a whole, but he also firmly doesn’t want to engage with the Ancient Time Ghost.

Meanwhile, Danny snaps his fingers dramatically and transforms into an adult version of his full ghost self. Only difference between this form and Dan is the lack of red eyes and slightly greener skin. Skin hardly mattered, eyes well, Danny smirks down at the little set of red contacts that weren’t there before, promptly putting them in. Even if it’s was extremely weird and hard to do that with fucking claws and fucking eight-feet tall.

Doing poses and makes faces at the mirror. He firmly wasn’t Dan but he was at least attempting to play the part, minus gratuitous mass murder, for today. Spinning around and swishing the cape, “oh fuck yeah, let’s kill this shit”. Screwing up his face and laughing, that sounded fucking weird with his murder voice.

Dora walks over to Dani, “lady Phantom, what is Prince Phantom endeavouring?”.

Dani giggles, “putting on a costume, sorta”.

Kitty shakes her head, “how human. That sort of thing hardly phases ghosts, he does know that right?”.

Dani snickers, “oh he’s doing it like how Amorpho does it. Very ghostly”.

Johnny blinks and leans over Kitty’s shoulder, “the little punk can shape-shift??? Since when?”.

ColdStep laughs, “who knows? I’ve never seen it myself. Same as his wail. There are things the great one can do that he seldom does”.

Johnny is a little thrown by the whole ‘great one’ thing but it’s whatever, some yetis want to worship the brat, fine. While Skulker walks over hurriedly, wanting any new information on his favourite prey, “wail? Are you saying that Danny’s scream is an attack?”.

ClockWork, far more interested in being a startling bastard than food, claps Skulker on the shoulder, “indeed. It can destroy weaker ghosts and level cities. You all highly underestimate him. I am his guardian because I am the only ghost he can’t destroy should he choose”.

Skulker pulls a face and coughs, “I find that very difficult to believe”. Only to jump from one of the doors getting kicked open dramatically.

Everyone turns their heads, full well knowing that was Phantom and his dramatics. Everyone gaping or sputtering utterly confused, a couple basically shrieking, “FUCKING ANCIENTS!”, before looking at the one Ancient present awkwardly. As Danny stomps through the door, flames in his footprints, and a cruel smirk on a downright threatening face.

Danny walks over to ClockWork, Dora, Skulker, Johnny, Kitty, ColdStep, and Dani. ColdStep has to actually look up at Danny, ears flicking back and down, “great one? What is this? It is....very unpleasant”.

While Danny stares down and crosses his arms at Skulker, who sputters, “o-okay, I b-believe it”. Johnny grumbles, “what kind of shape-shifting even is this?”.

Danny smirks cruelly, “I am the madness that lurks, violent instincts of mass destruction and brutalisation. Because you haven’t a clue that sanity can be nullified. The one who tears at flesh like snakes”, flicking out his forked tongue and giving a slight hiss.

Skulker stares, those are some serious fangs and the fucks up with the tongue?, “oh fuck me. This is horrifying”. Ember comes up and pokes one of Danny’s massive biceps, “Zone, they’re real. How???”.

Danny shrugs, dropping the whole ‘evil thing’, murder voice staying because of the form making it the ‘natural’ voice, “simply put, I can transform to any state or age of myself. This is full ghost and 24”, snickering, “and red contacts”.

Kitty blinks, “this is how you’d look if your human half died? Just older?”.

Danny nods, “and this”, transforming to his current age full ghost self, the same as young Dan minus the eyes of course and slight skin tone change, “this is current age”, sticking out and flicking his tongue at her before changing back to the older form.

The Box Ghost floats over slowly, “FEARSOME PHANTOM! THE BOX GHOST APPROVES!”.

Danny squints at him, “see you, you’re useful cause nothing fucking scares you”, smirking and giving an exaggerated mocking shrug, “but I'm sure if I take a hand or two as a sssssnack, you might learn a lesson”, chuckling darkly, “or two”.

The Box Ghosts backs up slightly, while Danny laughs loudly. Danny turns his head to The FrightKnight, who’s now a bit shorter than him, “so when we doing this shit? Do some bone-cracking?”, Danny holds up an arm and uses body manipulation to ‘snap’ it, sound included.

Ember looks from Danny’s to the ground, and grins maliciously, “Walker is very very dead”, pointing at Danny, “don't you dare say it”.

“Oh but it’s...inevitable”. ClockWork glares at Danny for that one.

The FrightKnight looks around seems to be smiling, nodding curtly, “LET US RISE!”, before everyone’s flies out followings the FrightKnight’s lead.

Walker, like Vlad, expects to get messed with constantly. Such is the price of trying to achieve some order in this damn place. He knew well enough to hide his rule book but firmly gapes as a purple cloaked ghost seemingly just floats past carrying it like a library book. Flying out after the thief, never noticing the bulky black and white ghost slink into his office. Danny chuckles, sneaking was harder with the bigger form but that wasn’t what Dan did. Brute force didn’t scare Walker though, which is probably why Dan just flat-out destroyed him; instead of handicapping him. Danny was just going to be a dick and creepy.

Cackling as he leaves harsh claw marks strategically. Filling the guys' drawers with blood, this was not one of the way he ever imagined his massive stockpiling of supplement blood, invaded of severe injury, would be useful. Ember floats next to him after hooking up distortion speakers to release barely audible out of beat taps and whispers, “why do you just so happen to have massive amounts of blood and ectoplasm lying around?”.

Danny chuckles darkly, “what can I say? I like to collect beautiful things and I do so love a good bloodbath”.

Ember backs off slightly, “you know, scaring us is counterproductive. Fucking Ancients, where has this side of you been hiding?”.

Danny stands up and looks around. The place looked suitably disgusting and battered, especially is precious chair. Side-eyeing Ember, “underneath the flesh-bag I shockingly failed to mangle”, shrugging, “and y’all have seen this side, just less concentrated. My true enemies are more familiar with ‘goddamn body horror bastard Danny’. Y’all usually get goofy Danny”.

Ember shakes her head as they leave and hide in a nearby cell, “I think I'm content with goofy dipstick”, chuckling, “you know, everyone thought you’d be a weak link. Invited more for your friends”.

Danny chuckles quietly, “well that’s a mistake best corrected. Slowly...with a smile”.

Ember looks at his toothy grin with slight worry, “uh, teach our foes that lesson. Also, you wind up with massive fangs”.

Danny cackles quietly at that, “oh they’ve already come in this size”.

She coughs, “seriously?”, shaking her head at his nodding, “then I guess it’s you who has to grow into them”. Both go quiet as a pissed off Walker starts walking over.

Walker pauses and looks around at the dents and scratches in hall and shakes his head. Subtle was more effective on him but he wasn’t going to let that show. Marking up his prison definitely bugged him.

Ember smirks over noticing Walker is walking a bit stiffer, well damn. She practically has to sit on Danny’s shoulder to fit in their hiding spot, neither being able to phase through walls here. She’s tempted to give him shit for that but Walker might hear.

Walker opens his door and stares, growling at the destruction. Stomping to grab his baton and firmly ignoring the occasional screams from his goons, opening the drawer to find it full of blood. Gritting out, “Phantom”, no one else would have such disrespect and access to human things. Though this was a bit off and disgusting, even for that punk.

Danny smirks over hearing his name, whispering to Ember, “nothing bugs him more than being wrong and the unknown”.

Ember’s got no clue how Danny’s going to achieve that, when Walker clearly knew he was involved. While Danny stands and lets out a deep, heavily reverberating cackle. Which she absolutely shivers from, because damn, part of her is really not looking forward to him ever actually having this voice. She’s assuming the harshness of it is why the sound makes her throat ache.

Walker whips around, that was not Phantom’s voice and he did not like it. Who else could it be though. Sticking his head out the door, only for a massive hand to grab his throat and slam him into the wall.

Groaning and blinking to see a face that seems straight out of his nightmares inches from his own. Snarling with massive fangs in the edge of Walker’s vision. Walker can’t really move and chokes out, “who-who are you?”, trying to keep the waver out of his voice.

Danny tilts his head, rolls his eyes exaggeratedly and cackles; before snapping his teeth right in front of Walker’s eyes. Laughing then, “oh I’m just a silly little thing. Just a pussy cat who’s found a little string”.

Walker gulps and can feel in move near painfully past the ghost's hand.

Danny licks up the side of Walker’s face, “it’ssssss been a while. You going to stay down like a good little mutt this time? or do I have to tear your skull out through your metaphorical intestines”, Danny rubs together his thumb and pointer finger with a nonchalant smirk, “not that I would mind. It was quite...delectable last time”, chuckling as he cups and pinches Walker’s cheeks and chin, Danny was probably enjoying this a little to much, “but of course you don’t remember that. What a perfect excuse to play this little...game again”.

Danny tosses Walker down the hall and rolls his eyes exaggeratedly as he shuffled across the ground to get away, mouth gabbing all the while. Danny chuckles, “what? Cat got your tongue. Why don’t I take a peek and check?”, walking towards him with flames licking his feet and footsteps, crawling up the walls, “who could blame me if I happen to tear it out by mistake?”, Danny shrugs.

Walker is making something close to a terrified whine when Ember pops up behind him covered in ectoplasm and pretends to vomit on him, seeing that and thinking this random ghost had damn murdered her, Walker flat-out shrieks. Flying out of the hallway and getting splattered in ectoplasm in the process.

Danny still feeling rather vengeful, stalks out after Walker with an amused smirk. Ember grimacing at him as he goes. Danny chuckles and drags his claws across bars and makes loud painful scrapping noises across the walls, “oh come now, I just want to play? Don’t you know how to have a little fun?”. Multiple totality m that spot him immediately start screaming.

Danny kicks open the door to the cafeteria, where he can smell Walker, and lets ecto-flames burst out from behind him. Pandora gapes at the scene for a second, but Walker spots that and is officially convinced that this ghost is not part of their group. About to go on the attack before the ghost coats the entire damn room in flames and cackles loudly. Walker passes out.

Bullet, seeing this crap from afar shakes his head, “nope. I don’t get paid enough for this shit”.

Danny frowns deeply and throws up his hand, “ah come on!”, slouching over severely and letting his arms dangle before lift a hand and snapping his claws, all the ecto-flames going out instantly.

Ember walks up and pokes Danny, who straightens up, “dipstick. I am seriously glad you aren’t our opponent. The absolute fuck?”.

Pandora’s voice booms amongst more screaming goons, being chased off by snakes and monster heads, “I’m quite impressed actually! Even if your look seems to make all my joints ache”.

Danny tilts his head wondering if all the ghosts had a bodily memory of the shit Dan did. Looking to ClockWork with a raised eyebrow, who’s terrorising a few goons with ticking nosies and random perpetually spinning gears. ClockWork gives him a little nod. Whelp, that’s pretty fucked up. But whatever, he’s past his Dan issues.

Danny smiles over the Lunch-Lady terrifying the Zone out goon with chuckle legs. Poindexter is just floating around people ominously and fake bleeding. Dora is pulling the whole dragon eyes and tongue; which Danny beams over. Danny launches near here and slams his claws against the ground next to goons head, baring his teeth wide and letting his tongue lashing at the air; his loudly all the while. The goon passes out. Danny and Dora glance at each other and exchange toothy grins and little thumbs up.

As they all set to head out, fully amused and satisfied with their terrorising, Ember elbows him, “seriously, what the fuck. I though you legit lost it and we’re going to murder him. Which is weird Phantom. You licked him? Why???”.

Danny shrugs, “see that I found pretty funny. Licky licky”, sticking his tongue out and snickering at it, “I just can’t take the tongue seriously. It’s so silly”.

Multiple ghosts grunt, “gonna disagree”.

While Danny points around at different ghosts, “plus, you try watching your shit around humans constantly. The very simplest shit is insanely off and creepy to them. Can’t even growl. So yeah, the being fearsome shit gets pent up”.

The FrightKnight instantly nods, made perfect sense. Slamming a hand on his sword, “then you need Halloweens Rapine even more”.

Danny shrugs, “probably”.

Not even eleven minutes after they get back they get raided themselves. It’s the harpy clans from The Blazes Cross. Danny just snarls at, makes ‘come hither’ motions at, or starts acting like a cat stalking prey, any who genuinely try to startle him. Shaking his head at Poindexter shrieking and batting wildly at the air. But snorting and laughing at Skulker doing the same. By the time all the Harpies have left around half the group had gotten startled enough to make something resembling a scream.

Danny punches the Box Ghost lightly, “I might be nearly as hard to scare as you I think”.

Skulker shakes his head, “of course you are, we expected that. Considering how used to being stalked or ghosts cropping up randomly you are. Not to mention getting beat up or seeing things you’ve never seen before”.

Johnny nods and leans against a wall, “you’ve probably seen shit no one else ever has”, either that everyone looks to ClockWork. Someone no one else had ever truly seen or met. ClockWork bows ever so slightly in response.

Kitty points at ClockWork, “you and the Observants have an unfair advantage with this technically. Since you know what people will do before they do it. If I’m guessing your powers right”.

Danny chuckles, “sometimes the best scares are the ones that stalk. The thing slowly dragging itself across the ground to chase you into a spiral of constant paranoia, till your mind begins to splint and crack at the seams. Consciousness and sanity pulled too taught till it snaps, nothing left but horror and absolution. Only then it springs, shredding your being till you match your hollowed-out shell of a mind”, waving his clawed hand lazily in the air, “I recommend going for the intestines. They’re the showiest”.

Technus blinks, “did you just monologue us? About drawn-out murder of all things? A villainous monologue?”, Technus grins and wipes away a proud tear.

The Box Ghost nods, “YOU COULD CERTAINLY BE ENTIRELY FEARSOME IF YOU TRIED! NOT AS FEARSOME AS THE MIGHTY BOX GHOST OF COURSE!”. Multiple ghosts shake their heads at him. Ember crosses her arms after she grabbed some snacks, “well I for one am glad you’re not a so-called bad guy”.

ClockWork nods, “that is indeed a future or present you should never seek to see nor truly know”.

Johnny’s shadow instantly starts laughing and Betrax, a friend of Kitty, snickers into her hand, “Phantom? Evil? Ridiculous”.

Danny rubs his neck and shrugs a little, “you’re faith in me is nice but misplaced. ClockWork isn’t my guardian in the traditional sense”.

ClockWork, deciding to be a little shit, freezes Danny and bops him on the nose with their scythe, “indeed. It’s my duty to destroy him should certain things ever come to pass”, shrugging and unfreezing Danny, spinning their scythe, “now of course I never would let it”.

Danny just chuckles and shakes his head, Skulker points are Danny, “see that is why you basically can’t be startled or scared”, shrugging with a slight smirk, “but I guess we all do have our dark sides”.

Danny points at him, “mine is vantablack”.

The FrightKnight looks around and, sensing the time, nods, “we've done extremely well. Getting the Observants pretty well guarantees our win. So it’s about time for the final hora! The mortals!”.

Both Dani and Danny blink, “excuse?”.

Kitty waves off his slight growl, “not your humans you, currently oversized, protective bastard”.

Danny looks at ClockWork, “is this even actually okay?”.

ClockWork nods, “outside of Amity and with Technus taking out the camera, yes. Though it is rather late, surely it is quite the time for you to lazy about”, Danny easily gets the message of ‘you’ll probably kill someone if you put in any real effort’ as ClockWork winks.

The FrightKnight chuckles slightly, “with mortals lazy works. So easily frightened”.

ClockWork nods, “they have quite the ingrained fear and horror towards that which reads as predatory. Especially some being that has been predatory to them once before. Unremembered or not”. Again the message of ‘everyone is going to be terrified of you because they subconsciously remember you violently murdering them’ is very obvious.

Danny nods slightly nervously as they head out to the human world via Wulf’s portal.

Danny floats next to the FrightKnight, “so hows this work? Oh frightful one?”.

Chuckling slightly, “we lurk, move things around, making strange noises, stare from dark corners. No actual attacking”.

Danny smiles, good then, harmless and this explains all the myths about ghosts.

Kitty shakes her head at Danny, “your oversized will have a hard time of that. Be hard to lurk or slink”.

Danny grins maliciously, “you forget. I know humans far better”, Danny leans he’s head of the ledge of a building roof, cackling deep and reverberating down at the street. The other ghosts raising their eyebrows as every human in earshot jerks to a stop, looks around in nervous paranoia, and then speed walks out of the area.

Danny points at the few ghosts who were around him, the rest all throughout the town causing mischief, “ClockWork meant something with what he said earlier. Every human that exists is subconsciously terrified of me, if I behave a certain way”, shrugging, “my cackle especially”.

Everyone squints at him disbelievingly as they all head out. Danny hopping down into an alleyway. Deciding to sit down, cross his ankles, have a cup of ecto-coffee, and read the newspaper; he just lets his ghostly aura out fully. Letting it carry cackles and ghosts of the feeling of his claws and teeth. Having to move spots every so often as the area clears out people. Everyone else getting very confused by the strange behaviour of the humans. Poindexter eventually happening upon Danny sipping at his coffee, “are you not try at all buster?”.

Danny lifts his head and sniffs the air, “actually I’ll have to move again soon here. Scared all the humans off with my presence”. Poindexter chuckles but indeed follows Danny as he floats up above a building. Soon to be joined by Kitty and Johnny.

Johnny shakes his head, “most have run home, but the rest seem to be gathering in the centre of town. Weird living creatures”.

Danny tilts his head and mentally maps every spot he had been before snorting. He had been accidentally herding them. Grinning maliciously, “a little corral of lambs”.

Johnny rolls his eyes, “at least you’re putting in some effort. Though we can hardly get these humans when they’re all gathered like this”.

“Course, safety in numbers. The same thing sheep do when stalked by a wolf. And if you sick the wolf inside a room with a hundred sheep, the wolf will die. But get a monster, and what the sheep do doesn’t even matter. They are nothing and they know it”. All three squint at him before following after him as he floats to the centre of town.

The four spots most of the other ghosts from their group. Skulker is shaking his head in annoyance, “what are we supposed to do with this? It’s well lit, crowded and noisy”.

Danny rubs his neck, “eh my fault. Unintentionally stalked and herded them. Easier to pick off crowds. Not for this of course”.

Danny looks around at the others, all trying to be creepy. Some working but mostly people just take comfort in the bright lights and close people. Danny looks down and smirks cruelly, he wasn’t going to mess this night up for everyone and, well, he just really wants to be a scary bastard ghost right now okay? Letting his ghostly aura fully out but sending it to circle around the humans, in ever-increasingly tight circles.

Skulker raises an eyebrow, “why are they bundling together so heavily?”.

Danny chuckles, “if you push a bunch of humans together enough, you get panic. They’re reacting to my ghostly aura”.

Everyone raises at least one eyebrow so Danny coils his aura thick and heavy around them. Watching as their faces drop and they all look at Danny with deep concern.

Ember muttering, “your aura is...it’s....there’s not really a word for this but it’s...not fun and very sharp”.

Danny points at her, “the word you’re looking for is predatory. My aura is all fangs, and teeth, and claws. It’s not a threat or a warning, but a promise of suffering should you cross it”.

Kitty grumbles, “who knew Phantom could be such an ominous bastard”.

Everyone watching as Danny floats to crouch on a light post in the very centre, the light bulb creaking and blinking out while his cape draped down. The light going out allows for all the other lights to cast shadows and light all over Danny. Not enough to truly make out anything more than the outline. Instantly the humans scatter, booking it back to their homes, none daring to look back to the thing that just screamed wrong and danger and death.

The other ghosts coming to float around Danny, highly confused. While Danny nods curtly, “well, anything more than that and someone might keel over”.

Multiple ghosts shake their head, while Skulker pats Danny shoulder, “whelp. I’m impressed and confused. Since the nights pretty well over, i heard you have a scream power?”.

Danny looks around, searches the sky to make sure it’s clear, then nods before tilting his head back and fucking wailing his Ghostly Wail.

Everyone who isn’t one of Danny’s true friends, and Dani, jumps or jerks, a couple even swearing. The air itself seeming to shake from the power of it alone.

Danny stops before it threatens to make him transform back human. Looking around and smirking, “my ‘lets fuck shit up’ power. Reserved for desperate times”.

Johnny mutters, “damn well better be”. As they all head back.

Everyone hangs around the castle until the results come in around one a.m. The FrightKnight handing out the bags of winners chocolate. Danny snickering at his, back in his normal Phantom form, “treats after the trick. Nice”. Most of the other ghosts in the Zone chalking up the FrightKnight’s gatherings win due to the FrightKnight himself, not thinking anything of Phantom.

End.

46 notes · View notes

lune1004 · 5 years

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hc of giyuu calling shinobu pretty: part 4 (modern au)

giyuu never likes loud thumping music and alcohol, to be honest. sweaty bodies dancing around each other coupled with laughters wafting through the air is not just giyuu’s ideal of a saturday night. he got forcefully dragged by sabito and sanemi to go to uzui’s party because lets be honest, uzui really knows how to throw the best parties in campus. sure, he’ll go just so sanemi will quit bitching about how he’s no fun and will die alone but is he to blame if he just sits in a corner minding his own business? certainly not.

he doesn’t know how it happens, but he’s suddenly roped in a game of charades with the usual gang he’s affiliated with. he’s “affiliated” because he doesn’t really know if they truly like him or not (aside from sabito, ofc. sabito calls him silly when he asked if he’s disliked by sabito). shinobu, one of the two girls of the whole gang, never fails to remind him how disliked he is, and how he has no friends. and with a smile on her face too! giyuu thinks she is rather scary. and odd. (”i am not disliked, shinobu.” he once retaliated when shinobu spotted him eating alone at the university’s cafeteria.

“tsk tsk, denial will only take you so far, tomioka-san.”

he doesn’t really know why shinobu says all these things to him yet still take a seat right in front of him to have her lunch. “you do not dislike me.” he tries.

she mocks a laugh. “do not get it twisted, tomioka-san! the cafeteria is full and i’d rather not wait to get a seat.” giyuu frowns. he’s not entirely sure why he’s uneasy after hearing her explanation.)

it’s so raucous. everyone’s hooting and hollering when somebody gets it right and laugh at whatever antics the players had to do in order to win. giyuu sits at the side, observing the game. it’s rengoku’s turn to guess now, with muichiro as the one who explains. rengoku’s gets most of it right, all fired up to try to guess as many as he can within the 1 minute time frame. giyuu thinks it’s admirable that rengoku is still so energetic at 12:30 am. “the night is still young, tomioka!”

giyuu sighs, just how long more does he has to be here? he wants to go home already. zoning out of the commotion in front of him to think about what to have for tomorrow’s lunch; as he has to buy the ingredients, he weighs between salmon daiki and mackerel.

“-yuu.”

“giyuu.”

“TOMIOKA-SAN!”

giyuu startles. he sees sabito in front of him, shinobu at the side glaring at him with the rest at the background looking at him. did... did he do something that warrants everyone’s attention to him? he feels uncomfortable now.

“its your turn now, giyuu! go play.” he hears sabito tells him.

giyuu blinks, “what?”

grabbing his wrist to pull him to be at the center of living room, shinobu looks back at him, “i’m not looking to lose, tomioka-san. do not fail me now if you do not wish to be further disliked.”

true enough to her words, shinobu manages to guess every word that giyuu demonstrates/gives a clue of. giyuu is trying really hard, if he’s honest with himself. shinobu’s threat was terrible enough to not give his best.

“last one, shinobu! you’re doing so great!!” mitsuri sighs dreamily at the side. “she’s doing so great, isn’t she, iguro? hm? tomioka-san is trying so hard too!! it’s so lovely!”

giyuu momentarily stops when the word flashes through the screen of whoever’s phone that’s shinobu’s holding against her forehead. he opens his mouth, shuts it a second after.

“what are you doing! hurry up! we’re not going to have much time left!” shinobu snaps.

“its an adjective-”

“happy, quick, sharp? no?”

“it’s used to describe peopl-”

“charming? gentle? hurry up tomioka-san!”

with 10 seconds on the clock, giyuu hesitates before he says, “i think this of you.”

giyuu bits his tounge when rows of hoots and guffaws enters his ears once he said it. he can see sabito trying his best not to laugh along with mitsuri. sanemi and uzui just straight up laughs.

“annoying? obnoxious? cruel?”

uzui and sanemi keeps on laughing.

“what, no- i. it’s mostly used to describe-”

“TIME’S UP!” rengoku’s booming voice signals the end of their time slot.

giyuu can tell shinobu is annoyed at how she did not manage to get the last word right by the way her brows furrowed and her mouth juts out. “just what is it so hard to describe, tomioka-san?” she goes up to him whilst holding the phone to bring to him.

she stands infront of him, boring her eyes into him. giyuu thinks he can’t breathe from how close they are. “you managed the rest, but you can’t at the last word?”

“i just think it’s funny how you can’t manage this simple word when you clearly said you think this exact word of me-”

giyuu watches her bring the phone to see the word.

giyuu watches her slowly blinks at the word on the phone.

giyuu watches her eyes slowly flutters.

giyuu watches how shades of pink decorates the high points of her cheeks.

giyuu watches how she sputters, “this is foul! this, this is. ugh! you cant- you cant just tell me you think this of me in the middle of a game! how inconsiderate of you, tomioka-san! how cruel of you to lie-”

giyuu frowns. “i didnt!”

heat creeps up to his neck at his own admission when he sees shinobu’s eyes go wide, the pinks on her cheeks travelling up to her ears.

he clears his throat. “but if you do not wish me to think of you that way, i will stop.”

his heart does a little funny flip when she mumbles a, “i didn’t say i didnt liked it! do not make assumptions on your own.”

grumbling at the embarrassing admission, shinobu blows air at her hair before pointing an accusing finger at him, “you better not think anybody else is!”

#giyushino #shinobu kochou #tomioka giyuu #kimetsu no yaiba #i have had this hc since yesterday and i cant get it out of my head lmaooooo #it was just giyuu blurting out that he thinks shinobu is beautiful during a game of charades #honestly dk why it turned out like this lmaooooo #can shinobu sleep after the commotion? ofc she cant! she tosses and turns in bed! if she squeals about it in the middle of night no one has #no one has to know!#she doesnt know how to make giyuu call her beautiful again so she agonizes over it

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cuthian · 4 years

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Starting Over Chapter Six

Hi guys!

Sorry for the delay on this one :) This is another Asgard chapter, so check the end notes again if you prefer not to read about Becca and Thor.

Love, Annaelle

Chapter Six

PEPPER POTTS IS PREGNANT AND BREAKS TWITTER WITH ADORABLE PREGNANCY ANNOUNCEMENT

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK — Pepper Potts, C.E.O. of Stark Industries and longtime girlfriend of Tony Stark and Col. James Rhodes, is having a baby, and like everything else she has done since the news of her polyamorous relationship with Rhodes and Stark, she is doing so on her own terms.

[...]Potts, 42, is pregnant with her first child, and used the unconventional, but adorable video she dropped on her official Twitter account yesterday morning to confirm the rumors of a pregnancy that have been floating around for the past few days.

[WATCH HERE: PEPPER POTTS SURPRISES TONY STARK, JAMES RHODES AND STEVE ROGERS WITH ADORABLE PREGNANCY ANNOUNCEMENT.]

She followed her video announcement with a tweet stating, “I have seen many children born into homes with two parents, who end up arguing, fighting, and divorcing. The person this affects the most is the child. I don’t think our situation, our relationship, will be detrimental to our child because it will ensure that our child will be loved. [...] It takes a village, and we have a big, loving, crazy village. I cannot wait to begin this next part of our lives together.”

The announcement was retweeted by Col. Rhodes and Tony Stark within seconds—we cover the adorable and surprisingly eloquent reaction of the two fathers-to-be here in this podcast—as well as by Captain Rogers almost immediately after that, all with happy and congratulatory messages. Captain Rogers’ tweet hilariously promises he will be the best big brother to the Rhodes-Stark-Potts baby in the history of big brothers.

Potts replied to Rogers’ tweet: “Steve will definitely be the best big brother to our baby. He’s got plenty of practice as #BigBrotherOfAmerica.”

[...]Fans flooded the video with congratulatory messages, and the hashtag #IronBaby has been trending for forty-eight hours so far, and promises to hold for at least another few days.

—Clara Newitski, “Pepper Potts confirms pregnancy”, E!News Online, 30 November, 2015

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TRAINING FIELDS, IDAVOLL, ASGARD

NOVEMBER 30TH, 2015 – 8:57AM (EARTH UCT+1)

BECCA

She hit the ground with a dull thud, the fall knocking the wind clean from her lungs, leaving her gasping for breath for a long couple of minutes. She laughed breathlessly when Sif appeared in her field of vision, grinning fiercely as she offered Becca a hand to help her up. “You did well,” Sif told her approvingly. “Not bad for a human. You held out much longer than I expected.”

“I got good trainers,” Becca chuckled, allowing the other woman to help her up.

She and Natasha had been training together for years at this point, and Thor had made a point of it to ensure that all of the Avengers learned how to fight opponents physically stronger—had made it a point to make sure they knew how to win and survive a fight against an opponent physically much stronger than they were.

“You must’ve,” Sif remarked, patting Becca’s shoulder. “I see our prince’s influence in the way you dodge, sometimes.”

Becca smiled lightly. “He’s been diligent about teaching us to win against more powerful opponents.”

“I cannot have my favorite mortal friends perish before their time,” Thor boomed as he came up behind them, slinging an arm around her. “You least of all.” She leaned into him when he pressed a kiss to her temple, relaxing against him.

She’d not been alone with him since before the disastrous feast, had barely even been in the same room as him, and she’d missed it—she’d missed him.

Sif only grinned in response before she curtsied—exceptionally sarcastically, somehow—and turned to beat up some hapless Aesir warriors. Becca smirked before she turned in Thor’s arms, slipping her arms around him and resting her head on his chest. She’d been up since dawn, had joined Sif in training not long after, and they’d been at it for hours.

She was well-trained, and in good condition, but she was only human.

She was tired, and Thor was comfortable and safe.

“Hello Krúttið mitt,” he rumbled, smoothing his hand down her back. “You’ve been busy.”

“Well, I had to keep myself busy with all kinds of official, diplomatic things,” she told him, seriously leaning back to raise an eyebrow at him. “My boyfriend seems to have other, more important matters on his mind than entertaining little old me.”

Thor frowned faux-seriously, shaking his head sadly. “Ah, your man must be a fool, to leave a woman beautiful and ferocious as you all by herself.” He grinned rakishly. “Anyone could pass by and just… snap you up.”

He punctuated the last word with a peck to her lips, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re an idiot,” she told him, but she didn’t resist when he cupped her face in his hands and leaned in to kiss her again.

“Perhaps, but you… You,” Thor muttered against her lips, her cheeks cupped in his large palms, “you are a dangerous woman.” He slipped one hand down, trailing down from the back of her neck to the small of her back, pulling her flush against him, ignoring the wolf-whistles that his friends sent their way. “And an irresistible one.”

Becca grinned against his lips and tugged on his hair a little. “And don’t you forget it.”

“I could never,” Thor chuckled.

“Odinson!” Fandral roared from somewhere on the training fields, effectively shattering their little peaceful bubble. “Stop canoodling with your mortal and come help me! I cannot lose to Sif again.”

Becca laughed when Sif cackled, and Thor shook his head in faux-dismay.

“Go,” she told him. “I think I’ll watch you, for a change. Go beat some unsuspecting morons for me.”

Thor chuckled and nodded. “Their blood shall be spilled in your honor then, Krúttið mitt,” he hummed. “And then I shall sweep you off your feet, and carry you to my chambers as my prize. My very own spoils of war. If you let me.” He hugged her close as she spoke, and she made note of the slightly possessive note to his words—it was so very rare that he admitted to wanting something different, or something potentially… more, she supposed, than what they already shared, that she cherished each time that he did.

“And after, I shall return you to your chambers,” Thor muttered, pressing a light kiss to her lips. “Once I have properly and thoroughly ravished you. I must confess I am most curious about your abode… I fear I’ll have to inspect whether it’s worthy of housing you, elskan min.”

“Oh?” Becca raised an eyebrow. “And should you find it lacking?”

“Well,” Thor rumbled, drawing her close one more time to press a smacking kiss to her lips. “I suppose I’ll have no choice but to house you in my chambers. Nothing less than the absolute best will do.”

She giggled against his lips, allowing herself one more moment before she pushed him back, keeping him at arm’s length when he pouted. “Go beat up your friends, hotshot,” she told him with a warm smile. “I’ll be right here when you’re done, okay?”

“As you wish,” Thor hummed, lifting the hand she’d pressed to his chest up to his lips to press a soft kiss to her palm, before he turned and joined his friends.

She remained where she was for a few moments, grinning at Thor’s back when he collided with his friends. She watched as he threw a casual arm around Fandral’s shoulder, as she’d seen him do dozens of times with Steve, watched the way they all laughed and teased each other, and felt something loosen in her chest.

Even on his best days on Earth, there was a kind of heaviness to him that did not dissipate.

It had now.

Seeing him here on Asgard was… it was almost unreal. He was lighter here, flourishing in a way she’d never seen him flourish before—in a way he probably couldn’t flourish on Earth—and she loved seeing him happy and carefree like this.

She tried not to think about what that meant for their future, though.

She made her way to the plump, surprisingly comfortable benches to the side of the training fields, sitting down with a sigh of relief. Her body ached a little—in the good way, the way it ached when she’d done an intense workout and stuck with it until the end—and it felt good to let her muscles relax for a short time. She’d get up to do some more stretches soon, she promised herself, but she’d take a five-minute breather first.

She watched, as she’d told Thor she would, allowing herself to study the way he fought, now that he didn’t have to hold back. He was ferocious, fighting with a kind of elegant brutality that was both breathtaking and frightening—she loved him, more than anyone else she’d ever been with, but she forgot… she forgot how different they were sometimes.

It wasn’t a bad thing, certainly, but… it was a little scary.

“Milady?”

Abruptly startled from her thoughts, Becca looked up to find two of the—frankly absurd amount of—maids Odin had assigned to her, Unnr and Þrúðr, standing before her, both looking profoundly uncomfortable.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, squinting up at the two women.

Unnr shook her head shakily. “No, milady. We just—” she and Þrúðr exchanged a fleeting glance, “—we were wondering if you are ready to return to your chambers?”

Becca blinked. “Oh,” she said, looking between the two maids. “I… I was actually planning on staying for a while? Until Thor’s done, at least.” She didn’t miss the way the two exchanged another glance, and huffed impatiently. She’d liked Asgard fine, so far, and no one had been openly hostile—barring the woman she’d had to shoot for threatening Thor—but things were different, here.

The change from Earth to Asgard had thrown off her sense of time too.

It almost felt like jet lag, but worse too.

It wasn’t bad enough to incapacitate her, or make her want to stay in bed for a few days until her body had fully adjusted to the new time zone, but it was, at moments, so damned uncomfortable.

The minor headache she’d managed to ignore all day came roaring back, and she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.

“Ladies,” she sighed. “Would one of you please tell me what’s wrong?”

Both girls blinked at her, before Þrúðr spoke. “The training grounds are typically… they’re typically off limits for maidens, milady. I believe exceptions were made because the Prince demanded it be so, but usually…” She shook her head. “It’s not proper for unwed women to be here.”

Becca swallowed thickly and blinked again, trying to digest… all of that.

“Sif’s here,” she pointed out dumbly, gesturing towards where her boyfriend was doing his best to electrocute his friends while cackling gleefully.

She shook her head.

She loved that weirdo.

“Yes,” Unnr conceded. “But Lady Sif is… well… concessions were made. She is of highborn Aesir nobility. Before Prince Thor was betrothed to Prince Loki, there were many talks of an alliance forged by marriage with her and the Prince. I believe the King allowed certain… liberties when he abruptly broke off such negotiations with her family.”

“That’s bullshit,” Becca blurted loudly, wincing a little when both maids startled.

Before either of them could speak, though, someone interrupted from behind them. “Our traditions are bullshit to you now, Lady Rebecca? I’m sure my son will appreciate hearing you express such blatant disrespect towards our customs.”

She stiffened, turning slowly to face her boyfriend’s father—his King—for the first time.

She had been introduced to him at the feast, of course, but that had been with Thor holding her hand, and about two hundred people surrounding them. She was vaguely aware that her two maids dropped into a deep curtsy the moment they realized who had spoken, and that they all likely expected her to do the same, but… she remained sitting, only moving to incline her head towards the man lightly.

She was not, after all, one of his subjects.

She was a guest of his son, and he allowed her in his home, so she owed him at least a modicum of respect, but she did not owe him allegiance or deference.

“Your majesty,” she offered. “I meant not to offend. I’m sure you understand that not allowing certain… parts of your citizenry to learn how to defend themselves seems… peculiar to someone looking in from the outside.”

Odin smiled tightly. “I suppose from your point of view, it certainly must seem so. As long as you remember that you are, of course, on the outside, glancing in.”

Becca blinked at that, taken aback by the barely veiled insult.

“Ladies,” Odin addressed Unnr and Þrúðr, “I’m sure you have duties to attend to.”

The two scampered off before the King had even finished speaking, and Becca remained were she was, stiff and decidedly uncomfortable, as her boyfriend’s father took a seat on the stone bench beside her.

She was tempted to get up and rejoin Thor and his friends, to let this arrogant old man look the fool, but… She sighed and shook her head.

He was Thor’s father, after all.

Insufferable bastard or not, she’d promised herself and Thor she wouldn’t let him get the best of her.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” she offered again when he remained silent.

She wasn’t sure why the man was here, why he insisted on sitting with her when he clearly did not approve of her presence at all. She expected he would try to frighten her away from Thor, or that he would insist on tormenting her about all of Thor’s past lovers—Loki most of all.

“Worry not,” Odin finally said. “Human lives are but fleeting, I should not expect such underdeveloped minds to understand the delicate intricacies of our society.”

“Excuse me?” Becca spit, rearing back as though he’d slapped her. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I am Odin. King of Asgard.” He turned to look at her slowly, expression frustratingly inscrutable. “Protector of the Nine Realms.”

“Yeah,” Becca snorted. “Right. Nine Realms. Including Earth. We noticed the protection. Thanks, by the way, for keeping our planet from slowly heating up and destroying itself. Or for stepping in during any of the wars, famines, epidemics, or disasters over the past thousand years.” She shook her head again. “Thor tells me you haven’t even looked at Midgard in centuries. Don’t you dare call yourself our protector when we’ve clearly been doing fine on our own.”

Odin merely chuckled, and shook his head lightly. “You humans… threatened by suffering in threefold; by your own body, doomed to decay; and the world you so cherish, that rages against you with overwhelming and merciless destruction… and then from your relations with one another. I’ve lived thousands of years, child, but I’ve never met another race quite so talented at self-destruction.” He looked down at her and added, “Your kind’s never taken well to our interference. While I have several agents established on Midgard, keeping me apprised of… relevant information, we generally let you be.”

Becca snorted. “For a man who so readily proclaims our brains underdeveloped, you sure seem to like some of our people’s works.” When he raised an eyebrow, she shook her head, “I know Freud when I hear it, your Majesty, however much you try to dress it up with fancier words.”

Odin smirked. “Ah, you are clever, at least. I suppose my son has some taste after all.”

He shook his head again, as though he’d grown weary of the conversation, and said, “Surely you understand, though, that my son will not be able to keep you. Certain classes of beings cannot mix—certainly not for any significant length of time.”

“With all due respect,” she replied coldly. “I hardly think we’re a different class of being. Having access to seiðr readily doesn’t make you more evolved—even certain humans can harness its power, even if they are far rarer than they are to your people. Honestly though, I can’t say that I care overly much for what you think. I care what Thor thinks, and he’s made the way he feels about me very clear.”

Odin eyed her critically. “My son has had many lovers before. What makes you think you’re different than those he dallied with to distract himself from Loki’s disinterest?”

“I trust him when he tells me I am,” Becca told him coolly, crossing her arms over her chest, and though she was fuming, she carefully kept her expression blank, because she refused to let him see that he was getting to her—that his words rattled her even the littlest bit.

Odin laughed humorlessly. “I’m sure he told the others such things as well. Like he did Loki. Undying devotion did not last quite so long, did it?”

She knew what he was trying to do, and she was sure if he had done so earlier on in their relationship, she might actually have believed him. She might have let this old, sad, heartbroken man get under her skin and ruin what she and Thor had managed to build, but she refused to let him now.

They’d worked too hard to get where they were today.

“You know, I’m a little sad for you,” she said, slowly. “I’m sad you’re so twisted up inside that it makes you want to make Thor just as miserable as you are.” She looked him right in the eye and shook her head. “I love your son. I really, really love him, and I don’t care that I’m mortal and he’s not. I don’t care that you don’t like me. I care that I make him happy. I know I’m not Loki, and I don’t need him to love me like he loved Loki.”

She shrugged and offered a soft smile. “I just need him to love me like he loves me.”

Odin chuckled derisively. “Such sentimentality. I should expect no less from a human.”

“Father,” Thor cut in, and Becca barely resisted the urge to jump at his sudden appearance. Thor settled himself on the bench beside her, pressing closer than was, perhaps, strictly appropriate in front of his father, but she didn’t protest, allowing the press of his torso against her side to soothe her.

“My son,” Odin said calmly. “I sought only to properly meet your frù.”

“Do not talk of her as such,” Thor hissed viciously, drawing Becca against him firmly, surprising her with the venom in his tone. “She is more than that.”

“Is she?” Odin chuckled. “Is that what your inn mátki munr signified? Will you insist on making her your kvàn, my son? Call her your brúðr? Your kona?”

“If I do,” Thor spat, “It will be because she chooses to be.”

“And she’s right here,” Becca said, elbowing Thor in the gut when he squeezed her too tightly.

Thor looked at her, eyes wide and somewhat crazed, and Becca made the executive decision that remaining anywhere near Thor’s father wasn’t going to end well for either of them. “Thank you for coming all this way to meet me, your Majesty,” she offered, making sure to paste the most insincere smile she could manage on her face, “I think we both rather learned a lot today.”

She looked to Thor and squeezed her fingers around his. “We’re leaving. You promised me you’d show me more of Asgard.”

“So I did,” Thor nodded, keeping his blue eyes intent on hers. “There is much to see still.”

He stood smoothly, offering Becca a hand as soon as he was standing, and pulled her to her feet as well. “We will take our leave, Father,” he said. “It was a pleasure, as always.”

With that, Thor began moving, pulling her along with him.

She didn’t look back.

————————

[PEPPER POTTS PREGNANCY ANNOUNCEMENT VIDEO!]

There is a short moment before the image settles that shows a cozy, comfortable living room, before the image stills and zooms in on two men sitting at the kitchen island, heads bent together over a laptop.

“I don’t see the big deal, Capsicle. It’s not like this is news, even to you,” Tony Stark, looking almost like had only just rolled out of bed, shrugs, leaning back in his chair and sipping from the large mug in the shape of the Hulk’s fist.

“This isn’t a joking matter, Tony,” Steve Rogers, dressed in a tight white t-shirt and light sweatpants insists, gesturing towards the screen with a frown. “They moved to L.A. of all places. It’s a fucking outrage.”

“But it’s just baseball,” Stark mumbles, looking entirely nonplussed, before he offers, “Would it help if I bought them?”

Rogers blinks in astonishment before he groans and puts his head in his hands. “God, don’t tempt me, Tony. I don’t even need you to buy them for me—I could do it.”

Stark laughs and pats his hand on Rogers’ head while he shakes his head, using his free hand to draw the laptop closer to himself. “Shhh,” he tells Rogers, “let me live out my sugar daddy fantasies through you, Steven.”

Rogers looks appropriately scandalized while Stark cackles and types madly on the laptop.

Rhodes walks in, stops short, takes in the scene and shakes his head. “Whatever it is, Tony, no.”

Stark cackles louder. “Tony, yes!” Both Rogers and Rhodes sigh and share a commiserating eye roll before embarking on a journey to the refrigerator together.

The camera shakes a little when the person behind it moves, moving closer to the men in the kitchen. “Tony,” Pepper Potts says from behind the camera. “What have you done now?”

Stark looks up and smirks gleefully. “I’ve just bought our baby a baseball team.”

Rogers and Rhodes emerge from the depths of the fridge with identical, bewildered expressions, and Potts is quiet for a moment before she chokes, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know Steve was our baby now?”

Rogers, who has once again rounded the kitchen island to peer at the laptop, exclaims gleefully, “Neither did I, but you’re not getting rid of me now. You bought me the Dodgers?”

The camera shakes when Potts laughs. When it settles again, the three men are now crowded around the laptop, talking over one another excitedly.

“Well,” Potts interrupts, moving closer to the men. “I suppose we can keep you. As long as you learn to share with your future baby sibling.”

The camera swings up to catch a clear look of the three men’s astonished expressions before the image cuts out.

—Clara Newitski, “Pepper Potts confirms pregnancy” CONTINUED, E!News Online, 30 November, 2015

————————

FENSALIR, VALASKIALF, ASGARD

NOVEMBER 30TH, 2015 – 12:09 PM (EARTH UCT+1)

THOR

He was still fuming at the sheer nerve of his father, even hours later.

He had taken Rebecca to see the city and had shown her his favorite little corners. He had taken her to the tavern he had taken Steven to as well, had taken her to visit Aase and the market, and had watched her become struck with awe when he had taken her to the libraries that held the collected works of the Nine.

It had soothed his ire some, to see Asgard anew through her eyes.

Becca’s wonder at seeing his home was contagious, and Thor had relaxed some. He had known, of course, that his father would attempt to sow discord in his relationship, that he would seek out Rebecca and try to pinpoint her insecurities, that he would use those insecurities against her to destroy them, but he had not expected his father to be quite so open about his disapproval.

He’d certainly not expected him to corner Rebecca on the training fields.

“Hey.”

Rebecca’s voice and her insistent tug on his hand drew him from his thoughts.

“Stop it,” she told him sternly when he looked at her. “Don’t let him win. I didn’t believe a word he said about us, Thor.” She turned towards him fully, and Thor relaxed a little when she tiptoed to slip her arms around him. “I love you. I trust you. You know that. I didn’t let him get under my skin.” She smiled and pecked his lips. “Don’t let him get under yours.”

“You’re right,” Thor sighed, leaning his forehead against hers. “You’re right. I’ll not let him spoil our time together any longer.”

“Good,” Becca grinned, leaning in to press another kiss to his lips. “Now show me these famed gardens of yours. Steve’s told me they’re absolutely gorgeous.” She stepped back a little and held out her hand to him, raising an expectant eyebrow.

Thor smiled and took her hand in his, leading Rebecca back towards the palace. He looked forward to showing her the Gardens; they’d proven a refuge for him and Loki many times when they’d been children, and he knew it’d brought Steven comfort too, when he had been here.

He hoped that Rebecca, too, would find some solace there.

He recognized he had not been able to be the host he wanted to be due to the absurd itinerary his father had foisted upon them when they arrived. Rebecca had spent far more time with his friends and the handmaidens—whom she had thankfully taken a liking to, even the maids she had initially bemoaned—than she had with him, due to his father’s insistence on adhering to tradition.

Tradition that he had never once been forced to adhere to before.

He’d originally planned for their first few days here to be far less strenuous and far more intimate.

Heimdall had warned him, when he began planning this trip, that journeying through the Bifrost would likely be exceptionally taxing for a human; even Steven, with an enhanced physiology that brought him closer to Aesir than to human, had felt the effects of it for a few hours.

He had not kept as close an eye on Becca as he had planned to, and he hoped she wasn’t feeling any ill effects of the travel any longer.

“Are you doing alright?” he asked concernedly, pulling her to a slow stop by lightly tugging on her hand. “I’ve not thought to ask how the Bifrost affected you, I apologize.” He imagined an inter-dimensional jet-lag on top of his father being… well, himself must’ve been exhausting.

“I’m fine,” Becca told him with a wry quirk of her lips. “Although, Asgardian cuisine doesn’t seem to agree with me yet.” She smiled a little. “I guess I just have to get used to it, but I’m not very hungry. I’m so bloated it’s not even funny anymore, but I’m not feeling sick or anything bad. Little tired, maybe, but... ” She squeezed her fingers around his. “Jet-lag hasn’t been so bad yet.”

“If you’re sure,” Thor said doubtfully, running his fingers across her cheek.

“Of course I am,” she shook her head. “Come on, show me the Gardens.”

He nodded silently and resumed their trek back to the palace; they would not have to enter the palace, thankfully, and risk running into his father or any of the servants. Loki had once shown him a secret path into their mother’s gardens, where they could slip past the guards unnoticed and hide in the lush, green garden for hours without being found.

He fully intended on doing so with Rebecca as well.

Spending their afternoon basking in sunlight, snacking on the morsels Thor had had asked the maids to prepare, and relaxing together, as they hadn’t been allowed since their arrival on Asgard, sounded like the best idea he’d had in months.

“So, your father had these gardens created for your mother?” Becca asked, slowing down a little so they walked side by side again, swinging their arms between them.

“Yes,” Thor nodded. “She missed the woods of her homeland and her father’s gardens, and my father sought to ensure her happiness by recreating them as precisely as he could.” He wondered where the man his mother had fallen in love with, once, had gone.

He wondered if love lost turned all hearts bitter, or if his father was an exception. Then again, his father had been a bitter man for longer than his mother had been gone.

He wondered, briefly, if he would lose himself to bitterness and anger too, should he lose Rebecca as well.

Losing Loki and his mother had very well had the potential to turn his heart to stone, and he believed it may have, had he not had his mortal friends to lean on in his time of need. The Warriors Three and Lady Sif were worthy friends indeed, but they had not understood the depth of his despair following Loki’s death. It might have been more forgivable if they had not so clearly mourned the loss of his mother while barely paying lip service to Loki’s memory, and only then on Thor’s behalf.

Having Becca and Steven and the other Avengers to turn to had saved him, in a way.

“That’s sweet, I guess,” Becca nodded, drawing him from his thoughts.

He looked to her and smiled lightly, squeezing his fingers around hers. “I suppose it was, at the time,” he shrugged. They’d reached the palace walls by now, and Thor slowed their pace down to a casual stroll, gently nudging Becca’s attention towards the walls that surrounded the palace.

“Do you see the etchings that cover the walls?” he asked, slowing to a stop so Becca could reach out to touch her fingertips to the faint lines.

“What are they?” she asked, looking back at him quizzically.

“Loki insisted they are the remnants of the history of our people that our forefathers would rather have seen forgotten. If you look closely, you can almost see the figures that tell our tales.”

Becca was silent, and Thor allowed himself to remember the awe that had filled him the first time he had seen the lines on the walls form a recognizable pattern. “It’s beautiful,” Becca said quietly, pulling her hand away from the wall and turning back to him.

“It’s also our way into the gardens,” Thor confided in her, pressing close to her and taking her hand in his. He guided her hand up, palm up, to the wall, letting it hover above the stones for a long moment.

“Say the words with me,” he whispered. “Opnað grindrinn.”

“Opnað grindrinn,” Becca repeated dutifully, and Thor relished in how easily her lips formed around the still largely unfamiliar words—she had insisted on beginning to learn his native tongue as soon as their relationship became more serious—and smiled when she gasped delightedly when the solid wall that stood before them shimmered and then disappeared, revealing a veritable oasis of greenery and flowers.

“Oh wow,” Becca breathed, and Thor couldn’t help but smile. It was an awe-inspiring sight, even for him. “Is it a gate?” she asked as she walked further into the gardens, “or is it an illusion?”

Thor hummed and considered his words before he spoke, watching as Becca moved deeper into the gardens, fingers idly trailing past flowers and deep green leaves. “It is somewhat of both,” he finally said, allowing his gaze to stray to the bright red flower that bloomed only through his mother’s lingering seiðr. “Loki wove the spell centuries ago, weaving it so only those we chose to share it with would be able to enter, and only accompanied by one of us. It was an ideal hideout.”

He expected Becca to laugh at that, to tease him about hiding out in the secluded gardens with Loki so they could make out like the careless, lovestruck boys they had been at the time, but she remained quiet.

He looked up to find her standing only a few feet away, rather a lot paler than she had been minutes ago.

“Becca?” he asked. “Are you alright?”

“I–” She shook her head and swayed where she stood. Thor moved before he had even consciously thought of doing so, crossing the distance between them in a few strides, grasping her forearms tightly. “I’m so hot.”

Now that he stood so much closer, he could see sweat beading on her forehead, and see just how alarmingly pale she’d suddenly become. “Becca, what’s going on?” he demanded urgently, concern flooding his entire being when she didn’t respond to his query immediately, eyes going a little unfocused before she muttered,

“I need to sit, I’m—l’m going to be sick.”

“Of course,” Thor floundered, trying to figure out how to help her sit without having her keel over, when her eyes rolled back in her head and she went limp in his grasp.

“Becca!” he shouted in shock, barely moving fast enough to catch her as she crumpled, knees buckling as he sank down to the ground, her limp form cradled in his arms. She didn’t respond, nor did she wake when he patted her cheek, despite him using more strength than he usually did with her.

No reaction, but at the very least she was still breathing, and her pulse sounded strong and steady to his enhanced ears.

He looked up desperately, shaking himself forcefully. “Alright,” he nodded to himself, lifting her up in his arms and making for the palace.

Eir would know what to do.

————————

Start from the beginning:

In Hell We Stand By You:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Never Feel Alone:

(1) (2)

Decisions: (1)

Dancing with a Limp:

(1) (2)

Chances:

(1)

Starting Over:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

Or read it HERE on AO3 :D Find the next chapter HERE on Tumblr :)

#IHWSBY sequel #starting over #stucky #Stucky fanfic #Steve Rogers #thor #Rebecca barnes #Avengers family #my writing #Lisa writes

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tvehyungs-gf · 6 years

Text

An attempt for TLC

⧉ Genre: fluff ⧉ Pairings: Min Yoongi x Reader (oc: female) ⧉ Requested: yes! ⧉ Word Count: 800. ➝ ask box ➝ bts masterlist

Finding Yoongi sleeping while sitting up is frequent occurrence, but with the well known fact that it’s extremely hard (and scary) to wake Yoongi up, you were in desperate needs of his attention.

After a long day of typing endlessly on keyboards and filing useless files into cabinets, you were finally able to go home to your enchanting and diligent boyfriend, Min Yoongi. “Bye Minjee, I’ll see you tomorrow!” You happily told the distressed girl, Minjee, before giving her a small pat on the shoulder.

“Take me with you...” The young lady mumbled back in hopes that you would actually be able to take her with you. Her hands quickly gripping on your forearm as she let out an exaggerated cry for help.

A loud voice, thats seemlingly belonged to your other coworker, had erupted throughout the small office area, “Minjee, stop sighing and get back to work! You only have 30 more minutes left.”

With a loud sigh Minjee spun in her seat and rested her head against the hard desk. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” She waved you off slowly.

You laughed tacitly, shaking your head as you made your way out of the office.

“Yoongi! I’m home~” You sang in relief, finally stepping foot into your home. “Yoongi?”

When you didn’t hear a reply, you immediately began to quiet down your movements. Yoongi was most likely sleeping and you wouldn’t want to wake him up, especially if it’s his daily afternoon nap. As you slipped off your work shoes, you placed your keys and purse down into their designated area onto the small table by your front door.

Walking towards your living room, you noticed the blonde headed man, his head just peaking slightly above the top of the cream colored couch. “Is he on the floor?” You asked yourself. “Baby?”

“Oh!” You laughed, “He’s so cute!”

Yoongi was sleeping sitting up, with his back against the couch as a blanket was probed around his lap. He laptop was placed on the glass coffee table in front of him with music was playing from it. Quickly, you pulled out your phone and snapped a quick picture. With a content smile, you locked your phone and flung it carelessly onto the couch besides you.

“I’ll let you rest for a little bit more as I go change.” You noted to a sleeping Yoongi even though he wouldn’t have heard a thing you said.

And with that, you shuffled up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. A vociferous yawn departed your mouth naturally in content as you stretched your arms high above your head. Quickly, you unbuttoned your chiffon button up along with your high rise pants before throwing them without a care in the world into your laundry basket.

As you walked inside your walk-in closet, Yoongi’s white t-shirt caught your eye. Taking it off the hanger, you threw it on as you walked out of the closet and your bedroom.

“Yoongi, are you awake yet?” A small “Hmm” was the only reply you heard as you sat down best Yoongi.

“Baby wake up,” You poked his cheek in attempt to wake him. “Yin Moongi, you better wake up right this instant!”

A frown etched itself on your lips when Yoongi made no attempts to wake up. “Mooonnnnnggggiiii~” You sang desperately as you pulled his arm, almost falling onto the floor yourself. “Wake up and cuddle me!”

As you had your little whining outburst in attempt to wake up your poor sleeping boyfriend, you didn’t notice the smile forming onto Yoongi’s moisturized lips and the discreet peak of his eye as he tried to look at you and your antics. After a while, you huffed in disbelief. You were giving up.

“I’m amazed at how you can sleep through all of this.” You whispered in astonishment. “Incredible!”

Shaking your head, you stood up to leave the sleeping man alone. But as you began to walk away, a soft and warm hand had made its way to yours. “Where do you think you’re going missy?”

“Huh” You yelped in bewilderment. “I thought you were sleeping!” You slapped his arm to get him back for startling you. “I nearly pissed my pants for just a second there.”

Yoongi let out a chuckle in response as he pulled you into his arms. “Shh, you’re talking too much.”

“Hey! You assh-”

“Shhh.. let the only sounds be the beat of our hearts and the zzz’s of our snores.”

“You forgot about the music too.” You stated, snuggling your head beneath his chin. Your arms voluntarily wrapping themselves around Yoongi’s figure. “I love you.”

Yoongi hmm’d again, “I love you too.”

You smiled to yourself as the warmth from Yoongi’s form radiated onto you. And within a few seconds, the feeling of sleepiness washed over the both you. And just like that, the rest of the day was contained of you and Yoongi cuddling on the carpeted floor without any care in the world.

Authors note: Sorry if this wasn’t as fluffy as you wished for it to be, but I still hope it’s somewhat up to parr! Thank you for requesting and feedback would be lovely!

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davidobitch · 6 years

Note

congratulations on the 6.3k followers!! could u do a colby imagine when he has a crush on u and he thinks it’s unrequited until he confesses one night and u return his feelings and he’s just like holy shit?? is this a prank??

hi hi thank you lots! i’m sooo sorry this took my literally months to write but it’s finished (finally)also since then i hit 6.4 and i am SO CLOSE to 6.5k so please help ya girl get to her goal! i hope this is decent enough! xx

“He wouldn’t let me record it, but it was hilarious,” Colby said to you over the phone, “You should have been there.” You tried to pay attention to whatever dumb situation Brennen got himself into but you were too busy cleaning your apartment. He continued to talk about last night while you ran around making your place look clean-ish. You hoped Colby didn’t think about the lack of response coming from you, and he didn’t. “(Y/n), hello? Did you die or something?” Well he didn’t realize it until now.

“No I didn’t die, asshole. I’m just trying to clean a little bit,” You said as you dropped down on your couch, letting out an exhausted sigh.

“Okay well I’ll let you go. But are you coming over later for this thing? I think they were planning like 8:30/9.” You furrowed your eyebrows, confused as to what Colby was talking about. When you remembered he couldn’t see your facial expression, you asked what was happening. “Do you ever pay attention to the group chat?” Colby joked. You could basically hear him smile through the form, making you grin a little, “Elton bought a projection. I think he wanted to have this little movie night thing.”

You told him you would be there before hanging up the call to finish cleaning. After about an hour everything was clean and put away. You checked the clock to see it was only 7:15. You let out a sigh of relief knowing you had more than enough time to get ready. Rummaging through your closet for 5 minutes you finally found a cute, but comfy, outfit to switch into.

You got bored waiting for the time to turn to 8:30 so you texted Colby asking him if he wanted to join you on a snack buying adventure and of course, he was down.

“So what kind of movies are picked out? If there’s any scary movie I’m leaving, I swear!” You said, pointing your finger at Colby. He put his hands up in surrender and laughed at you.

“Hey, I didn’t pick any. It was all Amanda and Elton. Besides, I’ll make sure you don’t get scared,” You rolled your eyes and threw a bag of chips are Colby when he rolled his eyes.

“Honey you get scared of a damn bee,” You let out a small chuckle and was caught off guard when the same bag of chips was thrown at you.

You and Colby continued to mess around in the store while picking out snacks and by the time you guys were done checking out it was already 8:30.

Halfway through the trip, you noticed Colby start to zone out and not seem like himself. You didn’t question it, thinking maybe he was just tired but you kept the thought in the back of your head.

By 8:45 you guys were back at the house. Colby helped you bring in the bags of food and within seconds everyone starting diving for them. “At least wait until they’re not in my hands you hooligans!” You yelled dropping the bags on the kitchen table.

You saw Colby wander off into the other room. You waited a few seconds before following him.

Colby plopped down on the big bean bag chair, watching Elton set up. Elton greeted you before going back to what he was doing. You started to worry as Colby didn’t even look your way. He only took out his phone and starting fiddling with it. You glanced at Elton as he looking at Colby and then you. You raised your eyebrows, silently asking him if he knew why he was acting weird. Elton shrugged his shoulders.

“Colby,” You said, sitting down next to him, “Can we talk or something? What’s going on?” Colby’s eyes looked up from his phone for a split second to look at Elton before he shoved his phone in his pocket.

“Okay, okay, I can take a hint,” Elton said as he walked out of the room, leaving you and Colby alone.

You kept your eyes on Colby but his eyes burned holes into the wall in front of him. “Talk to me, please. Why all of a sudden are you acting like this?”

Colby leaned forward and rested his head in his hands, letting out a sigh, “You (y/n), you’re the reason I’m acting like this. Sometimes you’re just so oblivious,” He said, making sure his eyes don’t meet yours.

You moved so you were sitting in front of him and wrapped your hands around his wrists, pulling them away from his face, “What are you talking about? What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything and that’s exactly the thing. I’m gonna tell you something and you’re not going to do anything about it, just like you do everything else,” Colby ripped his hands from your grip, startling you. This isn’t normal behavior for Colby. You’ve been friends with him since high school and you’ve never seen him like this. “(Y/n), I’m sorry, I just-” Colby paused, his eyes locking with yours for the first time since the car ride. His hands reached forward and cupped your face. “I tried pushing my feelings away. I tried getting over you for the sake of our friendship because I can’t stand the thought of not having you in my life. I tried and tried, but I had no luck. I’m so head over heels for you, (y/n).”

Colby’s thumb rubbed your cheek and you couldn’t help but lean into his hand. You glanced down at your feet, processing everything that was just said. Everything was moving in slow motion and as if the whole world was on mute.

“Please say something, anything,” Colby whispered, bringing your attention back to him.

A smile formed on your lips and you didn’t think twice before leaning forward and crashing your lips with Colby’s. You felt him smile into the kiss before pulling away, “Is this a prank?” He asked, joking but you could tell he was serious.

“Does it look like a prank?” You replied, pecking his lips again.

“About time!”

“Geez Colby you finally grew a pair of balls.”

“Oh my goodness, you guys are so cute!”

Yours and Colby’s heads turned to the direction of the voices to see everyone with their cameras out, vlogging you guys, “Excuse you!” You shouted, throwing a pillow at them which eventually started a pillow fight.

#cb #colby brock #masterlist #colby brock imagine #sam and colby #tfil #elton castee #corey scherer #aaron doh #jake webber #sam golbach #katrina stuart #kat stuart #devyn lundy

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athedemonsqueen · 6 years

Text

Vladimir #1 (A vampire story)

Hi guys, so here is the first chapter of my first actual vampire story based off Vladimir and Stefan from Twilight, now before you turn away from this, this is only based off Vladimir and Stefan and you (Y/N) there will be no Edward or Bella no Cullens, only the Volturi and the Romanian coven. I’m changing up some vampire rules for the story to make sense so I hope you like my ideas. The reason why I want to write a story based off Vladimir and Stefan is because they are believe it or not, are the original vampires mostly Vladimir, (hence the name Vlad the Impler) also because the original vampire resides in Romania that was a big red flag in Breaking Dawn. Second reason why, I think Vladimir and Stefan have an awesome back story it something I think every vampire lover can get into! So sit back relax an enjoy #1.

An update on I Found You, I will not be updating probably until next Monday since it’s the last Monday before Wrestlmania and just like Wrestlmania this chapter will be BIG! This will be the second to last chapter before we come to a close. I will do a second novel within due time (probably around the middle of April) I just want to focus on Vladimir before I start balancing two stories. :) Don’t worry, I haven’t forgot my loving blue eyed Irishmen!

Romania- one thousand years after the Volturi had destroyed the Romanian vampire coven, throwing them into darkness and myth of the original vampire. Now, centuries later, peace must be made between the Italian coven and the Romanian coven. This must be made for hope of peace between the two different worlds.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” Cristolf yelled, coming into my chamber. I scoffed as I continued packing my clothes. Usually Cristolf voice is calming and inviting, he was angry, I could tell by the gruffness of his voice. It is to be expected from a vampire.

I’m packing to go to Romania to settle a treaty with the Romanian coven. This was a big debate and it was talk about everywhere, the Romanians hate the Italians. This is because of Aro, leader of the Volturi that destroyed the Romanian coven forcing them into darkness. Aro feared of Vladimir's rule and that he might overthrow the Volturi. Although Vladimir had no intention in overthrowing the covens. We are not the Volturi, we are a small coven on the outskirts of Rome. If we make peace with the Romanians we can form an alliance and we can depend on each other.

Cristolf is my biological brother. He is a full blooded vampire. I on the other hand a half vampire and half human. My mother was seduced by a vampire and became pregnant with me. She died giving birth and I never knew our father. Cristolf only describes him as kind and yet stubborn. He turned Cristolf once my mother died, so that he could take care of himself. Cristolf was only seventeen. That was more over three and fifty years ago.

“You cannot go!” Cristolf protested.

“It’s too late, I’m already pack!” I said, simply. “You are an Italian and a immortal child what makes you think Vladimir will listen to you!” Cristolf cried.

“What makes you think he’ll listen to you!” I protested, turning swiftly. My eyes bolted from my sockets. Cristolf took a step back as my voice carried over the castle walls, making them vibrate.

Cristolf sighed, smiling slightly, “You are mama!” I sighed sharply. I turned closing my suitcase.

“I just don’t understand why you won’t allow me to send Marcus…” Cristolf commented.

“Marcus is not a good negotiator and he’ll be torn in half...then what will you do for a mate?” I said, turning my neck.

“I still have my sister…” I scoffed, lifting my suit case up.

I took one good look at Cristolf and said, “I’ll be back before the next blood moon…” I kissed his cheek.

Before you know it, I was gone, off to Romania and to the wild darkness that the Volturi casted in. Although despite the eeriness of the country, it was beautiful. I could smell the forest air and the blood of the creatures that it infested it.

I also could feel a presence a very godly presence, a menacing presence. I sniff the air a little to find that I was near the Romanian castle. I have never seen a castle before and I was nervous to approach one. Over the horizon I saw the castle that resided the Romanian vampires. I trembled slightly as my eyes cast upon it.

A menacing laugh came over my ears and I began to scout the area. A swift glide of air ran past me and I knew right away I was no longer alone.

“Italian scum!” I heard a voice in a distance, although it sounded quiet clear.

“Who’s there?” I asked nervously. A dark shadow came out between two trees. He was dressed in old Romanian clothes, slightly dark skin, and dull red eyes. The sign of a human feeder. He smells my blood, I know it. I have a beating heart; a pulse, and fresh blood.

“Hello, (Y/N)!” His whimsical voice came. His Romanian accent coming through clearly to my ears. I stood nervously, before I said,

“Hello, Stefan.” I bowed slightly at the accent legend.

“Why so nervous?” He tilted his head slightly.

“Forgive me, I’ve heard so much of you. I never thought I would be standing in your presents.”

“Oh, flattery?” Stefan commented. I gulped slightly.

He suddenly was by my side, inches away from my ear, so close I could smell is breathe. He circled me not taking his eyes off me.

“(Y/N) the half breed, your story itself is legend…”

“Funny…” “Cristolf sending his sister to negotiate peace…”

“How is that funny?” I asked.

“Peace could never be reinsure between the Romanians and Italians...especially with a filthy half breed!” His tone changed as his fangs flared out, but I did not run or hide, despite my fear of him.

“I’m here to negotiate with Vladimir not you!”

“Of course you are...good luck trying, Vladimir is not one to listen so easily he enjoys a good fight, but a woman, now...that is a challenge he will accept!” Stefan said.

“With a half-breed, woman…” he chuckled in his throat.

“I know you and Vladimir have been through a lot and I’m sorry, but that was not my family’s doing.” I said, glaring down at him. He growled under his breath before disappearing before I began descending to the castle.

The castle was desolate and void of life of any sorts. Maybe a few bats here and there hung from the ceiling, but mostly the hallway in which I was walking down had not a soul in sight. Vladimir had kept the coven small, only allowing a few vampires to reside here. He feared the Volturi, if they knew Vladimir was growing in numbers, there would be another war. And we don’t want that, for the Volturi would involve us as well.

Through the corridor came Vladimir. He surprised me as I gasped in his sight. He stood still and stared at me for what seemed a long time.

“Did I scare you?” He asked, his accent coming through just as thick as Stefan’s. He glared down slightly at me.

“No, maybe startled, Stefan did the scaring.” I said. He nodded up to me.

“(Y/N) I haven’t since you were a baby, which was what? Maybe two years ago.” Vladimir said.

“Although this is my first time I’m meeting you…” I said.

“Yes, I’m surprised, Cristolf didn’t send Marcus...why would he send his half-breed sister?” Vladimir commented, glaring up at me, his eyes glowed red.

“I came on my own accord for the negotiations…” I said.

Vladimir slowly pulled his head down, his eyes now glowing black, “I can smell fresh blood, I can see your veins…” He hissed. Vladimir didn’t seem as scary compare to Stefan, but now I can see why Cristolf didn’t want me to come. Vladimir chuckled,

“No one will harm you here…” Vladimir said, “I give you my word for as long as you remain here…” He reached out his hand; covered in a black glove.

I licked my lips softly, as I nodded going pass him, I did not take his hand fearing he might feel my pulse. He looks vulnerable, he can’t be hungry, over one thousand years, Vladimir has to have some sense of control now. I could feel his eyes studying me as if he has never seen a woman before.

I stopped and scoffed, “I’m sorry for staring, I’m just curious...What do you do for substance?”

I sighed, “I can live off human food or blood, but I prefer blood.” Vladimir was satisfied with the answer as he showed me to my room.

It was simple, a bed, one window and that’s it. “A bed?” I asked.

“We figured if Marcus back out you would come, so we covered all ends.” Vladimir said, I smiled taking a step into the room

“Thank you, Vla-” I turned to find Vladimir was gone. He is good, he has plenty experience with being a vampire, I turned to the bed and sat down. I plopped on the bed, closing my eyes and drifted to sleep.

@mylittlepartofthegalaxy @igobypoet @finnabonthesinnabon @finnbealor @devitts-girl @soulofaravenheartofawolf @calwitch @tina679 @meremaidqueen @echelonfam-30 @2sweetqueen

Authors note: If you are not into the whole vampire thing and you wish not to be tagged, let me know I will not be offended by all means. :)

#twilight vald vladimir breakingdawn vampires love undead bloodsuckers blood werewolves

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smolfangirl · 6 years

Text

A tricky treat

Surprise! I did a thing, because I saw this post and my brain went wild, so here comes a little Halloween os, with prompts from this post and this.

It’s also from my secret not anymore neighbourhood au, where - you guessed it - Luna and Matteo end up as neighbours. I hope you enjoy this, even though I barely proofread and with barely I mean I didn’t! (@sky-girls I know you liked this au when I told you about it ^^)

Edit: @sky-girls mentioned to me that Luna probably wouldn’t really celebrate Halloween. I will keep that in mind in case I’ll write something Halloween related again, but won’t change the OS here, I truly hope I’m not offending anyone.

Luna loved costume parties. Adored, even. Everything about them made her nerves tingle from excitement – picking another set of eyes to explore the world with, the whole process of evolving into a different person, having to guess what her friends dressed up as…

She really loved costume parties. Naturally, Halloween belonged to her favorite holidays. (After Christmas, and Eastern and actually, she loved holidays in general.) Back in Cancún, she used to stroll around the city with her best friend. They’d start at her house where they changed into their matching outfits. Then, they circled the blocks before they inevitably reached the promenade. Sitting down under a sky full of stars as shiny as the wrapping foils of their collected candy, they spent hours and hours there.

Right now, Luna grabbed a bag of those sweets from her childhood and poured them into a bowl on the dining table. (An expensive designer piece out of wood too fancy for her to remember the name. She had stated the unnecessity of furniture that costed more than her rent, but her aunt couldn’t be stopped.)

“Guys, feel free to eat as many candies as you can”, she announced to her friends standing in the living room.

Gastón was the first to stroll towards her, and he immediately stuffed a small chocolate bar into his mouth. She watched him in amusement. With his fake fangs covered in chocolate and sticky caramel, he looked rather funny than scary. “Gastóncito, you have… something on your fangs. There. And there too.”

He laughed, revealing even more chocolate stains on the fake teeth. “That’s part of the costume! That way, when I bite you, I can inject chocolate straight into your veins and then you will do everything I want.”

“Amazing”, she replied. “I mean, I don’t think this is how being a vampire works but if it does, remind me to” – the bell interrupted her. “That must be Matteo, excuse me!”

Her hand already on the door handle, her eyes wandered one last time to the mirror in the hallway. Her (fake) hair was perfectly in place, her make-up stayed where she meant it to be and her dress… well, her dress still hugged the curves of her body, still showed more skin than she felt comfortable with. (Damn Mora for talking her into this)

“Of course, the one with the shortest way is the only one who shows up too late”, Luna smirked while she swung the door open. Indeed, she found Matteo behind it, just not with the look she expected. “Wait, what? Where is your costume?”

He raised an eyebrow at her, as if she rambled the most useless things. “Is that how you welcome your guests, moon girl?”, he asked, meanwhile pulling her into a hug. His hands settled on the thin white fabric a little bit below her waist, a little bit too firm to keep the blush away from her cheeks.

They stayed like that for a minute, enough for Luna to forget what she’d been so surprised about. Shame on his perfume and it’s stupid effect on her whole stomach. And her chest too. If he only knew that she feel asleep on the couch, lulled in by his scent, every time when he had stayed over for a movie night…

“Also, I have a costume, silly.” A grin, and by now it dawned upon her that this might be one of his games. “Then why didn’t you put it on? The invitation clearly said it was a costume party. You helped me write them, remember?”

“I know, that’s why I dressed up.”

With a deep breath, she mustered him. The first thing she noticed: he looked hot. Hotter than usual, which shouldn’t be possible, hot in the “I’d kiss you right here right now, but I have guests over and we’re just friends, what a shame”-way. Little stubbles covered his normally smooth cheeks, a deadly combination with his glasses. Seriously, it turned into a problem by now. Did he do that on purpose? Blinding her with his disturbing good looks in order to prevent her from complaining about the inappropriate outfit?

“Eh, the shirt is new. And those pants too? But nonetheless, all I see is a chico fresa.” Luna crossed her arms, half done with his jokes, half hoping they got to banter more. “Please, look a bit closer”, Matteo begged, no, dared her.

She refused to look at him closely, however. Their friends didn’t need an opportunity to tease them because Luna couldn’t hold back and jumped him right in the hallway. “Okay, either you tell me what it’s supposed to be or…”, she started, but not getting the chance to finish. “Your future boyfriend.”

If she gave it a second thought, being teased by her friends seemed like the better option. Your future boyfriend. Did he want her to faint into his arms? (He wiggled his eyebrows at her, so the answer was probably yes.)

“Well, at least that gives you a good chance at winning our little competition. That costume is scary”, Luna mumbled, although she meant none of this.

Matteo leaned closer, his perfume lingering in her nose, “Good, because there will be a lot of screaming tonight.”

For the shortest fraction of time, Luna allowed herself to dive into the picture his words painted. His mouth wandering over her skin, along her neck before they found this particular sensitive spot - “Hey, are you okay? Is your neck hurting?”, Matteo asked and only then did Luna notice she rubbed the side of her neck that he was familiar to…

Before she managed to answer, however, Gastón’s voice carried into the hallway. “Matteo, I can hear you, come and show yourself!” Luna turned to Matteo, a sigh sitting on her lips, “Have fun explaining him this”, she gesticulated at his outfit, “I’m sure he will love it. Oh, and one more thing, chico fresa. No alcohol for you tonight. I don’t need more hickeys.”

Under further inspection, he might had been blushing at her words. (Good, she thought. That would hopefully teach him a lesson.)

Gastón loved his costume. Of course. Luna had been right, not that Matteo expected anything else. After laughing for a good minute at his joke, something changed though. His expressions darkened like the summer sky before a storm, and he leaned in with his voice nothing but a careful whisper. “Matteo, we need to talk.”

“What? About my hilarious costume?”

A raised eyebrow, the usual sign that Gastón had no intention to joke around. “Okay, what is it?”, Matteo inquired before the frown got frozen on his best friend’s forehead.

“You seriously need to make a move on her before who ever gave her that hickey two weeks ago does. You remember that hickey?” Gastón poked his finger in Matteo’s chest, something that distracted him enough to keep a grin away. “Of course I do”, he mumbled – just for other reasons than you believe. “Still, she gets to decide who gives her those, don’t you think?”

Gastón shook his head, hands ruffling through his already messy hair. Matteo hoped the constant handling wouldn’t make his best friend go bald before the age of 30. “She has to know you’re an option, bro.”

“She will”, Matteo hesitantly promised, a nervous flatter resting in his ribcage when he thought of explaining Luna the messy effects she had on him ever since she had shown up in his life. At times he wondered if she expected anything, if she felt something was missing despite them growing closer and closer.

Gastón grinned, nodding, and before Matteo realized what happened he called Luna over, “Hey, Luna! We weren’t finished talking when you opened the door for your future boyfriend.” As she walked towards him, Matteo shot his best friend a warning glare, which he naturally ignored. “Honestly, I forgot what we were talking about”, Luna said. Since she looked at Gastón, Matteo took the opportunity to inspect her more closely. She wore a wig that matched her blue-painted skin and made a startling contrast to her eyes, a contrast so stunning Matteo debated over where to look first.

And her dress. He didn’t even dare to look at it for more than a second, too afraid of losing control and his dignity.

“Chocolate, fangs, you wanted me to remind you of something…”, Gastón went on, pulling Matteo back to reality. Luna’s face lightened up, she clapped her hands and grinned widely at Gastón (Matteo loved that grin), “Oh, right! I wanted to say that if you infect me with chocolate, you are totally allowed to bite me.”

Matteo had no idea what was going on.

“Luna, wait, no, I bet it’s a trick to lure you into trusting him!”, he jumped in. Gastón rolled his eyes at him, but the right side of his mouth curled up along with it, so Matteo gave it no attention. “Don’t let him kill you, moon girl – or are you already dead? I can’t tell from your costume…”

With eyes and mouth open in pure disbelief, she turned to him, her wig swinging over her shoulder in what he’d call a dramatic hair flip if Ámbar stood in front of him. “What? Ever heard of the corpse bride? The movie? Tim Burton?” He shook his head. Knowing his little moon, he wouldn’t get out of another movie night with her. “No, you know I don’t watch…”

“Okay, this is unacceptable.”

“Agreed, you can’t look like that on your wedding day, so… dead”, he shot back, much to Gastón’s amusement, who watched them while the smile on his face grew wider and wider. “I’m not kidding, Matteo, we have to watch that movie.”

Bingo.

“Well, if you insist”, he agreed, earning an excited little jump from Luna, “And by the way, I do have another costume, if you don’t like the one I’m wearing now.”

Within a minute, Luna hurried him to change outfits and she not once suspected him for grinning like an idiot.

“A strawberry?!” Everything about the horrified glimmer in her eyes to her arms freezing midair provoked a laugh from Matteo – it took him all his self-control to not give into the desire. “Wanna bite me?”, he asked instead.

“What? No, I mean, maybe, wait, no. No.” All the layers of make-up failed to hide how affected she got by a little bit of teasing. “You’re super cute, by the way”, he winked at her and he’d swear that her hand on the handle began shaking a little bit.

“Cute? Excuse me? This is a scary Halloween costume”, she protested, still unable to return his gaze. Flicking her nose, he laughed and wondered how she would react if he kissed her now. “No offense, but you are way too cute to be scary.”

Luna took a step back. “You’re being extra fresa tonight.” She motioned him to step inside, he heard a little sigh as he pretended to let go of the topic to walk back into the living room. “I’m certainly dressed extra fresa tonight”, he said over his shoulder nevertheless.

“Sometimes I really wonder why I like having you around.”

Matteo won their costume competition with an overwhelming majority.

It took Luna exactly two seconds to wish Matteo and his stupid strawberry costume to hell. Two seconds, which was all the time Jim and Yam needed to storm into her direction, a determination in their eyes that scared her.

“Luna, Luna, can we talk?”, Jim began, a half-empty cocktail glass in her hand and by the way she dragged the vowels, Luna doubted it was her first drink. “Yeah, you never told us something was going on between you and Matteo”, Yam added, luckily sounding less drunk than her best friend. Still, she wished the ground would open so she got to leave this topic, this party.

“I never told you because there’s nothing there”, she answered. Of course, the two girls refused to give up so easily. “Right, that’s why he dressed up as your future boyfriend”, Yam shook her head while Jim added, “And a strawberry!”

“Hey, Yam, we should give those two some punch too”, Jim turned half away, apparently believing she was subtle about it, “Maybe that will help.” They giggled with their foreheads moving closer until they shared a hug that looked awkward, or at least from Luna’s point of view.

“No, you won’t, and”, Luna meant to interrupt, but being too late. “Matteeeeo!”, the girls yelled in unison, followed by another laughter. “Doyouwantsomepunch?”

From the couch, Gastón threw in another bad pun, “Yeah, Matteo, it’s bloody-licious”, before he focused his attention on Nina again. Luna sighed. If Matteo agreed now, she’d be the only sober one, and screwed. Completely screwed.

“Thanks, but my little lady doesn’t want me to drink”, Matteo replied to send Luna a wink. Somehow, he looked hot even with this bloated up strawberry costume.

“Oooh, his little lady”, Jim snickered as she raised her eyebrows and gave Yam a high-five. Meanwhile, Gastón frowned at his best friend. “What?”

Luna’s head snapped towards Matteo, and for a second, he was all she could see, the memory of this one night crystal-clear in her head, like a photograph she studied until every single line got engraved forever. Without a doubt did he live through the same night as her, without a doubt did they have to keep it a secret or their friends would never leave them alone. (Or the opposite, they’d excuse themselves immediately, with meaningful glances and teasing comments that made Luna blush already.)

“Because he gets weird ideas and I don’t want to deal with them again, that’s all”, Luna explained and tried to ignore the confusion spreading on her friend’s faces and the subtle hint of red unfolding on Matteo’s cheeks and the way it made her knees feel shaky.

To Matteo’s own surprise, no one bothered him or Luna for the rest of the party. Well, except Gastón, whose puns got only worse the more punch Jim gave him. At one point, he called Matteo over while Nina sat on his lap, “Strawberry! C’mere.”

He walked over, slowly, hoping that someone got into his way before he reached his evil grinning best friend.

“Have you heard that NASA discovered a moon that orbits around the sun? They want to name it Matteo.”

Matteo blinked. Once. Twice.

Nina began laughing so hard, her shoulders were shaking and if it wasn’t for Gastón’s tight grip on her waist, she’d fall right from the sofa. “Oh my… that was hilarious”, she panted between waves of laughter.

Gastón seemed the happiest he’d ever been.

“That was the worst pun you ever made and I’m deeply regretting choosing you as my best friend”, Matteo replied before hurrying away from the vampire pun machine that Gastón had turned into.

Not too long after that – midnight had come and gone without any spectacular incidents – Luna stood by the door, saying their friends goodnight. A breath of relief escaped his lungs as Luna walked back into the living room, meaning they were alone and he finally didn’t have to feel like their every step and word was carefully analyzed by Jim and Yam.

“Matteo, what are you doing?”, Luna inquired while he tossed the candy foils into the trash can. “Helping, of course”, he said without looking up. (Not a single drop of alcohol was in his veins, yet he felt intoxicated just by being around her. And he didn’t dare to give into these sensations.) “The one with the shortest way can stay the longest, no?”

“But your costume…”

In one smooth movement, he pulled the zipper down and stepped out of it.

“No way! A t-shirt? Where did you steal this from?” The shock tinted Luna’s voice, made it sound a bit high-pitched where usually a sweet calmness reached his ears. “Why did I have to steal it?”, he asked, excitement about a possible banter with her flooding his stomach with butterflies.

Luna shrugged, hands going through her wig to pull it off. She pulled the wig cap off, and the next time he stole a glance at her, her hair fell in messy waves over her shoulder. How come he got to admire something so beautiful from so close, yet so far away?

“Well, you said you only owned one t-shirt and that was the one you borrowed to me the other night and… I just can’t imagine you buying one, okay? Don’t laugh at me!”

“When would I ever?”, Matteo said, fully aware that the grin on his lips told her otherwise. “But believe it or not, I bought this.”

Luna nodded, although he knew she remained with some doubts, she had this little crease on her forehead whenever she questioned something. “One final thing though”, Matteo smirked, strolling behind her when she carried the plates into the kitchen. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“How do you like it?”

She nearly dropped every single plate.

Silence greeted him as Matteo entered his flat. Just 21 steps separated him from Luna’s front door, yet he felt like he had run a marathon after those steps. All he wanted was to crawl into his bed.

The strawberry costume landed next to his boyfriend outfit on the floor, something Luna would endlessly tease him about if she ever got to see it. (Which she wouldn’t, he had a reputation to lose after all.) The shirt followed next, and within ten minutes, Matteo got ready to slide under his warm blanket.

Then, his phone blinked.

Two messages from Luna. He opened them, confused, usually she never texted him this late, and she should be in bed too anyway.

I just heard some weird noises. And from a few minutes ago, No I’m being serious.

His fingers hurried over the keyboard, asking if she was okay at the same time another message came in.

I need you ri

His heart stopped. Matteo cursed, the blood freezing in his veins as a loud bang carried through the ceiling, right from Luna’s apartment. Grabbing the spare key she’d given him, he ran out of his flat, 5 steps, 11, and finally, 21. He opened the door, heart beating fast, all his senses sharpened.

She had to be okay, she just had to, because he didn’t want to live a life without Luna in it.

Nothing seemed wrong in the hallway. Familiar shadows from the furniture, a few rays of the moonlight leaking through the door from the kitchen.

“Luna? Are you here? Are you okay?”, he asked into the silence. Not a sound. “Shit.”

The door to her bedroom was open, not by much, but Luna could only sleep with the door being completely closed, so he slipped through.

“BOO!”, someone yelled, a flashlight shining right at a white mask right out of a horror movie. Matteo screamed, he screamed louder than he had ever screamed and only when he heard a familiar laughter did he feel able to stop.

“Luna! WHY? Why did you do that?”

He groped for the light switch in the dark, his heart still pounding in his chest. As the light chased away the darkness, he found her still laughing. “Your scream… I can’t…”, tears ran over her cheeks, while she laughed and laughed and laughed.

By the time she calmed down, Matteo leaned against the door, calmer but not a bit less annoyed. He’d been worried sick over her texts, after all.

“So, may I ask why you deemed this necessary?”

Luna grinned. “You said I was too cute to be scary, I had to prove you wrong. And that’s what Halloween is all about – tricks or treats.” An idea formed in his head, bold and too tempting to be ignored. It sharpened when Luna’s eyes rested on his chest, realizing that he’d been about to go to sleep and hadn’t grabbed a shirt before he checked on her.

“In that case”, he whispered and took a step closer, “You owe me. That was a very mean trick.”

She cleared her throat, barely able to break her stare away from him. “But if you trick me now, it won’t be a surprise.” Her voice became nearly inaudible towards the end. “Who said I want a trick?”

Bridging the last centimeters between them, she lifted her chin and then their lips touched and something inside Matteo exploded, releasing a whole zoo in his stomach and a firework where once his heart was. Luna wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him so close not even the smallest particle would fit between them. He let his hands wander down her back while his lips savored the taste of hers – he had imagined this moment many times, at daytime, at night and every moment in between, but as he learned, no fantasy lived up to the reality of kissing Luna.

“So, I take it you meant that costume?”, she asked, voice so soft and warm it felt like a kiss made for his ears. “What do you think?”, Matteo replied.

Luna simply kissed him again.

#soy luna #lutteo #my sl fanfiction #halloween fic #3.5k words and 2.5k of those were written today I'm super exhausted #my brain needs a break before it explodes #anyway I hope you enjoy this os and this au #can anyone solve the hickey mystery?

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